


The Year That Never Was

by Rezeren



Category: Doctor Who, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Horror, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Horror, Survival Horror, Survivor Guilt, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-05-24 17:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6161371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rezeren/pseuds/Rezeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'And so it came to pass that the human race fell and the Earth was no more. And I looked down upon my new dominion as Master of all, and I thought it good.' Locked up upon the Valiant, England is forced to watch as the Master destroys the world. He takes small comfort in the knowledge that no matter what torture he endures, his spirit cannot be broken. Set during series 3. USUK.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mistrust

**Author's Note:**

> Has been posted on FanFiction too, still incomplete there.
> 
> This particular one will only focus on the Year That Never Was and the events leading up to it. All you really need to know is that England and the Doctor have a long and complicated (both angsty and humourous) history.
> 
> England's magic in this story is a lot stronger than people know. He generally tries to keep his adventures with the Doctor and the various different invasions a secret by using his magic to wipe peoples' memories. That will be important in the other story but not too relevant in this one. Obviously some of the other countries are aware that this is extraterrestrial life (I mean, America is best friends with Tony) but the other nations don't really know about the things that go on in the Whoniverse.
> 
> Anyway, allons-y!

_'This country has been sick. This country needs healing. This country needs medicine. In fact, I'd go so far as to say, that what this country really needs right now... is a doctor.'_

I turn the television off, the repeat of an earlier broadcast flashing off in an instant. I was there for the actual event, ready to congratulate the new Prime Minister upon his election, but I had to act as if my stomach wasn't churning on the inside. The mere sight of that man makes me question what's wrong with the people of my country. How could they have elected him? There's something very wrong here...

'The people love him,' Wales says beside me, sighing as I scoff at his words. 'Well, it's true. They wouldn't have voted for him otherwise.'

'There's something about him,' I mutter. 'I can't quite put my finger on it.'

'No need to be paranoid, brawd bach,' Wales chuckles, calling me his little brother in his own dialect. 'If the people trust him then you should too. Aren't you supposed to be the reflection of what the people want?'

'I'm supposed to keep this country safe,' I say. _And pretty much every other country too,_ I add inside my head. After all, the other countries don't really know about the extraterrestrial threats. To be fair, they don't have capital cities that get attacked pretty much every Christmas. I swear, if Christmas this year in London leads to one more invasion... if I so much as see a Dalek or a Cyberman...

I usually try and keep the other countries in the dark about that. They may not believe I have magic, but they wouldn't even remember anyway. I'm not really sure what the deal is about all the bloody aliens being fixated with me (the Doctor included- why does he keep visiting anyway?), but people always die. This country has been through so much due to all the monsters trying to destroy us. Despite my quarrels with the other countries, I don't want any of them having to put up with that. The less they know about the secrets I keep, the better.

I mean, would they really believe me if I told them that I'm actually sort of friends (or not. I still don't know what to think of the Doctor sometimes) with a nine hundred year old alien from the planet Gallifrey called a Time Lord, and that the two of us and whoever he's traveling with end up saving the planet from aliens?

No. I don't think telling anyone is a good idea. Not the responsible countries like Germany and Japan, not my siblings, not America. I dread to think of what would happen if the Russians or the Americans got wind of it.

So if anyone does come close to discovering anything they shouldn't, I use my magic to wipe their memories. Which sounds ridiculous, I know, but it works. I know too much, and I get invaded at least three or four times a year. As long as I ensure that UNIT bases are established all over the world then I can guarantee that the other countries will be safer. And their memories can be replaced. But when big stories appear on the news, like the Slitheen ship crashing into Big Ben, there's not a lot I can do.

'Britain's doing alright,' Wales says cheerfully. 'We've got a brand new Prime Minister and he looks very promising.'

'Oh yes? Then what is his policy?'

Wales blinks. 'I... I'm not entirely sure, but he has done a lot for us already, hasn't he? He was the Minister for Defense and he destroyed that Christmas star over London that those terrorists were using.' That's just one more lie I've told the other countries. They buy quite a lot that I tell them. Terrorists sounded like a valid explanation for that giant star hanging over London, not a giant, red, spider alien called the Empress of Racnoss.

I'm currently in my house in Hamstead Heath in London, and Wales has been paying a visit to hand over some documents for me to look through. Scotland has already briefly visited me earlier today and good bloody riddance. I hate it when he comes. I tried not to celebrate too much when he left- I was busy trying to prevent a house fire from those damn cigarettes he leaves lying around. (And the fire was because of that, _not_ because I left something burning in the kitchen.)

_This country has been sick. This country needs healing. This country needs medicine. In fact, I'd go so far as to say, that what this county really needs right now... is a doctor._

Those words send shivers down my spine. It's like the Harold Saxon is reading my mind or something. It feels like he's going to somehow display my secrets. The way he talks about this country... about _me..._

And that last part, the part about me needing a doctor...

That creeps me out the most.

* * *

'Finance report, sir,' says one of the various women in the room, handing Saxon the documents as he walks by with his wife. I step off to the side, watching closely. Now that he's the Prime Minister, I want to see how he handles this situation.

'Military protocol, sir,' another woman says, holding out another set of documents. Saxon takes these too, not bothering to even cast looks at the people around him.

'EC directive, sir.'

'Annual budget, sir.'

'Policy recommendations.'

Lucy Saxon leans in close to her husband, the two of them stopping to gaze fondly at each other. 'I'm so proud of you, Harry.'

Saxon raises his hand to her cheek and leans in to kiss her. 'Bless.'

Finally, a familiar face arrives. Latitia Jones, sister of Martha, the Doctor's current companion. I've had a few run-ins with the Jones family over the last few days. Tish and I met the other night at Professor Lazurus's party. That didn't go too well.

Tish walks up to Saxon, looking slightly apprehensive. 'Um, sir, if you don't mind me asking. I'm sorry, but it's all a bit new. What exactly do you want me to do?'

Saxon's eyes fix on Tish. 'Oh yes, what was it...?'

'Tish, Latitia Jones, sir.'

'Tish. Well then, Tish...' He places his hand on her chin. My stomach churns at how he's invading her personal space so suddenly. A gentlemen would never do such a thing. Tish looks flustered. 'You just stand here and look gorgeous,' Saxon continues, a smile dancing on his lips.

His wife laughs weakly.

A few minutes later, Saxon and I are ready to enter the Cabinet Room. I am about to express my disdain at how lax Saxon seems to be acting when he holds out his arm in front of me, preventing me from moving towards the door.

'No, no,' he says. 'Not you, Arthur.'

'What do you mean?' I ask testily.

'There's no need for you to be in there,' he continues with a condescending smile.

I'm furious. 'There's every right for me to be in there! I'm the representation of this country as you know full well. I have to be there while the Cabinet is in session-'

'Well, as I'm in charge now, I reckon we can bend the rules a bit,' he replies with a grin.

'Saxon-'

'Look, Arthur, if you want to be busy then you can deal with some of this.' He shuffles the documents in his hands and hands a significant amount of paperwork to me. 'I can't be bothered to do it all. Life's too short.'

And with that, he's disappeared into the Cabinet Room, leaving me feeling completely humiliated and enraged.

'Bloody wanker,' I mutter under my breath.

* * *

I'm sitting at my desk in one of the halls outside the Cabinet Room, trying to fill out the bloody paperwork that Saxon himself should be doing when I see Tish get up from her seat, looking rather frantic.

'I'm sorry, but you're not allowed in here...' she calls out as a middle aged woman with blonde hair walks in, arms full of documents. Who is she?

' _'Harold Saxon, a modern Churchill'_ ,' she announces, quoting something from a newspaper. Oh dear God, she must be from the press. That's the last thing we need. She waves the paperwork and hands some to Tish for the younger woman to read. I frown, continuing to watch from my corner of the room.

'It's the definitive think-piece of the great man himself. Oh come on, sweetheart, you must have read it,' the woman from the press continues, strolling through the room to one of the lounges where I know Lucy Saxon is currently situated.

'Um, not really. Sorry, I'm new,' Tish says uncertainly.

The older woman practically interrupts her. 'Mr Saxon does like a pretty face. But I'm here to see Mrs Saxon.' She reaches the door and opens it to reveal Lucy on one of the sofas, blinking confusedly. I get up from my seat and stride over to the door. If Tish is unable to stop this woman then I'm going to have to.

'You can't just go barging in...' Tish calls out worriedly.

'Mrs Saxon, Vivien Rook, _Sunday Mirror._ You've heard of me,' the woman introduces herself, stepping forward into the room.

Lucy looks flustered. 'Oh, can't I just have an hour to myself? It's been a hell of a day.'

'Strike while the iron's hot, that's what I say, Lucy... I can call you Lucy, can't I? Now, everyone's talking about Harold Saxon, but I thought, what about the wife? All I need is twenty minutes.'

Lucy looks around slightly worriedly. 'Oh, I think maybe we should wait...'

'The headline's waiting to print, 'The Power Behind The Throne',' Vivien Rook says eagerly.

This catches Lucy's attention. She leans forwards slightly, now looking interested. 'Really?'

'Britain's First Lady,' Rook adds.

'Gosh,' Lucy exclaims.

'Front page.'

'Oh! Well... I suppose... ' She seems to be seriously reconsidering. 'Oh, go on then, twenty minutes,' she decides with a smile.

'Excellent!'

'Ma'am, if I might interject,' I begin.

Lucy looks at me vaguely. 'Yes, Arthur?'

'I wouldn't recommend an interview at the present time-'

'Oh, no need to worry!' Rook interrupts, looking very excited. 'It's only twenty minutes, after all!'

Lucy nods. She's always been quite easy to manipulate. 'I'm sure it will be fine. It's alright, you can leave now, Arthur.'

Rook turns to Tish. 'Thank you. Go, go... what was it... Tish?' She hands the younger woman her coat and pushes her towards the door. 'Now you, can leave us alone.'

Tish seems uncertain. 'No, but I'm supposed to sit in.'

Lucy adjusts hair and shakes her head encouragingly.

'No, no. It's only a profile piece. You know, hair and clothes and nonsense. There's a good girl, out you go. That's it,' Rook says, ushering Tish out. The door closes, leaving Tish and I standing in front of it, wishing we could have prevented this.

Tish turns to me. 'I should be in there...'

'I think... I think this is the least of our troubles. I'm sure there are more pressing matters to attend to,' I mutter, remembering how I need to ensure that Saxon is doing his job correctly.

'What do you mean?'

'Harold Saxon... I think there's more to him than meets the eye. But never mind that. We should get back to work.'

'Yes, sir,' Tish says with a nod.

* * *

A few minutes later, I decide that a little bit of eavesdropping is in order. It will look too suspicious if I stand next to the door that Vivien Rook entered the lounge through- after all, the hall where a lot of people including myself and Tish are working is right on the other side. So I leave the room and decide to walk down the corridors beside the lounge until I reach the other door to the room where that bloody interview is taking place.

By the time I've turned the corner to stroll down the last corridor towards the other door, however, I am greeted with the sight of Harold Saxon himself, having a discussion with Lucy beside the door. Their voices grow louder as I approach them. They haven't noticed me.

'... Harry, she knew everything. You promised. You said Archangel was one hundred percent.'

Saxon winces. 'Um. Ninety-nine. Ninety-eight?'

Lucy gasps. 'But if she's asking questions, then who else?' A sob escapes her throat. 'How much time have we got?'

Saxon looks sympathetic. He holds his arms out for a hug which she obliges to. 'Tomorrow morning. I promise. That's when everything ends.'

I announce my presence by speaking up. 'What are you talking about?'

The two of them freeze then stare at me. Saxon finally composes himself. '... Now, now, Arthur. Eavesdropping isn't very nice, is it? Shame on you.'

You were talking about the Archangel Network. What have the satellites got to do with anything? And where is the journalist?' I ask.

Saxon looks at me straight in the eyes. His own eyes look rather odd. They're dark and they remind me of something, but I can't think what. 'Run along, England. Finish your paperwork, play nice with the other countries, do whatever it is you do all day.'

* * *

This is ridiculous. This is going to destroy everything I've tried to build over the last few years. I've tried as hard as possible to keep the other countries and the people of the world in the dark about all of this. Everything I've hoped to achieve is about to be ruined.

'You can't do this, Saxon,' I say flatly. The two of us are in Saxon's private office, the only people in here. I'm alarmed by Saxon's plans. 'Engaging in official contact with extraterrestrial life is under the jurisdiction of the United Nations and furthermore, UNIT would need to prepare-'

Saxon laughs. 'Ooh, you do sound so professional, Artie. So serious, all the time. Wouldn't you like to take the credit for First Contact? Great Britain, leading the world forward into a new age... come on, doesn't that sound exciting?'

'Taking any credit is irrelevant, Saxon. My task as a country is to ensure the safety of the people of this planet, and without UNIT analysing these so-called 'Toclafane', we are unaware of their motives. They could pose as a huge threat-'

Saxon looks bored. 'Never mind that. I've got broadcast to star in. Don't worry, Arthur. We're going to have lots of fun...'

I stride out the office, seriously pissed off. This is hardly first contact- I've known about aliens all my life. They confronted me when I was just a tiny child after all. One of them even promised to protect me from the others. I'll always remember the first time I saw that big blue police box, sitting in the woods, directly in front of me, and I'll never forget the strange man who lived in that box, the one who said he'd always be there for me-

Where the hell is he now? I know he's good at lying. He said he'd always be there and yet he's let me down before. I think that gives me enough reason to resent him. But most of the time he's there. He's stopped so many aliens from destroying this planet, so why can't he show up now.

_Where are you, Doctor?_

Well, I guess he's just breaking his promise.

Again.

* * *

_'Britain, Britain, Britain. What extraordinary times we've had,'_ the Prime Minister says on air. _'Just a few years ago, this world was so small. And then they came. Out of the unknown. Falling from the skies. You've seen it happen. Big Ben destroyed...'_

A clip of the Slitheen spaceship smashing into the clock tower is shown on the television.

_'... the spaceship over London...'_

The screen cuts to the Sycorax ship hovering in the sky.

_'... all those ghosts and metal men...'_

The Cybermen and the ghostly apparitions they appeared as before they materialised properly are shown.

_'... the Christmas Star that came to kill...'_

Shots of the giant star blasting the streets of London appear on the TV.

_'... Time and time again and the government told you nothing. Well, not me. Not Harold Saxon. Because my purpose here today is to tell you this. Citizens of Great Britain... I have been contacted. A message for humanity from beyond the stars.'_

Finally, the creatures themselves appear. The camera cuts to a weird, metal, spherical object hovering in the air. It's around the size of a football ( _our_ kind football, not those bloody things the Americans use) and when it speaks, it seems to know English.

_**'People of the Earth. We come in peace. We bring you great gifts. We bring technology and wisdom and protection. And all we ask in return is your friendship.'** _

The camera cuts back to Saxon. He smiles. _'Oh, sweet.'_

Lucy laughs.

 _No, it most certainly is not sweet,_ I think angrily. I am not actually allowed in the office where the Master is speaking life to the people of Great Britain. My previous Prime Ministers would have allowed me in- after all, I'm authorised to be in there. But Saxon is constantly belittling me. It's like it's his new job to piss me off.

So I am instead standing in a separate room here in 10, Downing Street, watching it all happen on the television screen in the corner. I'm here with Tish and various MPs, wondering how I'm ever going to cover all of this up.

_'And this species has identified itself. They're called the Toclafane...'_

The Toclafane... I wrack my brain, trying to think about whether or not I've heard of them before... the name seems fairly familiar, like something out of a fairy tale one might hear whilst one is young. Has the Doctor mentioned it to me in the past?

_'... and tomorrow morning they will appear, not in secret, but to all of you. Diplomatic relations with a new species will begin. Tomorrow, we take our place in the universe. Every man, woman and child, every teacher and chemist and lorry driver and farmer and, oh, I don't know, every... medical student?'_

The way he pauses before he utters that last profession makes me wonder whether there's some hidden message I'm not picking up on.

_What are you up to, Saxon? What are you playing at?_


	2. Destruction

Tish is hurrying down the large staircase, pushing past people as she hurries along behind me. People usually give me respectful nods when I pass by but the day has been far too hectic and everyone is frantically trying to prepare for the necessary precautions for First Contact. Today, Tish is the only person I've truly confided in. Well, I'm not the type to open up, but I've expressed my displeasure and unease at this entire situation.

Tish's phone rings, and the first word she utters has me listening in closely in case it's related to the Doctor. 'Martha, can't talk now. We've just made First Contact, did you see?'

Tish isn't aware that I know who Martha is. I wonder briefly whether I should ask to talk to her sister (and perhaps the Doctor if he is there too), but my thoughts are interrupted as two guards push past me, heading straight for Tish. They quickly grab her by the arms and begin pulling her back up the stairs.

'What are you doing?' Tish cries out in distress, dropping her mobile phone in shock. 'Get off! Linda, tell them!' she yells desperately at one of her colleagues.

I snap out of confusion pretty quickly. 'Release her immediately!'

One of the guards turns his head as her pushes Tish up the stairs. 'Sorry, sir. This is a direct order from the Prime Minister-'

'I haven't done anything!' Tish sobs.

'What are the charges?!' I shout, trying to push past the other people on the stairs in an attempt to reach Tish.

'Treason, my friend. Plain and simple,' comes a voice from above me. I look up to see Saxon at the top of the staircase, smiling mysteriously at me. His left hand rests on the banister, his right holding his phone. 'Dear Tish is going to be taken under questioning. Nothing to concern yourself with.'

I take another step up the stairs, only to find yet another guard in my path. Saxon must have ordered him to prevent me from interfering. 'Step aside,' I hiss at him. How dare these guards do this? My authority towers over theirs; they should do as they're told. But they don't. The other two continue to drag Tish away and this one in front of me doesn't budge. Their orders come from Saxon himself, and he outranks me.

* * *

' _Tomorrow morning, Britain will be welcoming an extraterrestrial species...'_

The whole world knows now. Every news channel in every country is talking about First Contact. I've been bombarded with phone calls from so many of my fellow nations, both from my friends and the ones who don't like me. I've only just finished talking to Japan about it. I honestly felt like I could be honest with him. Over the last few years, I've often thought that if I were to tell the other countries about the Doctor and all the strange, supernatural things that have happened to me my entire life, Japan would be one of the few I would willingly confide in.

Before I know it, I'm picking up my phone and calling someone whom I'd rather not talk to under normal circumstances.

_'Aye?'_ comes a voice that sounds like mine but a little deeper and with a Scottish accent.

'Hello, brother,' I say with a sigh.

He chuckles down the other end. _'Ooh, things must be bad if you're callin' me. Problem?'_

'It's about Saxon-'

_'Yeah, Wales was tellin' me about yer paranoia. He's kinda lax 'bout the whole thing. I never liked Saxon anyway.'_

'So you agree with me?' I'm relieved that my brother is actually taking me seriously. But how do I explain all of my suspicions to Scotland, especially the ones involving the Doctor and the extraterrestrial life? As much as my eldest brother and I may find Saxon untrustworthy, there's no way I can bring up what I really think Saxon's up to.

Because the clues are all there, aren't they? Saxon has had Martha Jones's sister, Latisha, arrested, as well as their mother and father. I've already been informed that the entire Jones family is in trouble. Leo, Martha and Tish's brother, is apparently on the run.

It can hardly be a coincidence that the Jones family, people who have been in contact with the Doctor, are being arrested. In addition, Saxon's got some plan to do with the Archangel network, the satellites that have been set up overlooking the Earth, and then there's the Toclafane themselves. How did Saxon first speak to them? Who is he really?

_'I think ye're overthinking this one, brother,'_ Scotland says. _'I mean, this guy's probably gonna mess up our economy even more with all these empty promises, but ye're makin' him sound like some kinda psychopath.'_

I blink. Am I really coming across like that? Do I sound crazy?

_'Have ye seen the yank's news?'_ Scotland asks. _'His President is really pissed off 'bout all this.'_

I lean across my work desk and open up a new tab on my computer so that I can check out one of the American news channels.

_'... The President is said to be furious that Great Britain's taken unilateral action...'_ I close the tab, already having heard enough. All I know is that Saxon's now gotten my whole country into a load of trouble. Bloody hell... Even if America won't be angry (he'll probably treat this like one big joke), President Winters will be.

Saxon has screwed this up for everyone.

* * *

_'_ _And as the eyes of the world turn towards Great Britain, sources indicate that Air Force One has landed on British soil tonight..'_

Upon hearing that Air Force One is arriving here, Harold and Lucy Saxon have come with me to meet the US President. He and America himself are unboarding the plane as our car pulls up on the runway. It's very late at night here in the UK, with only a few hours to go until the scheduled meeting with the Toclafane tomorrow morning. I know that none of us will be getting any sleep tonight, as we've all got to prepare for this big occasion. We're being flown out the _Valliant,_ a sky vessel specifically designed to be a neutral meeting point, set up by the United Nations.

President Winters doesn't look very happy at all. I've met him before a few times before, as he's always struck me as a good, levelheaded man. I remember what the AMNN reporter said about how angry the President is apparently, and I feel a wave of shame pass over me. After all, this is partly my fault. I should be keeping my Prime Minister in line and he's gone and messed up big time because I obviously haven't been doing a good enough job.

President Winters walks towards Saxon, Lucy and I, an air of frosty disapproval about him, America trailing behind, looking rather excited about the whole thing. Just seeing how at ease America is about the situation calms me down a little. He's always been good at handling problems with an optimistic attitude. Despite our ups and downs, I'm glad to see him, and I'm happier to know that he's not too fazed by all of this.

Saxon salutes Winters as he and America approach us. 'Mr President, sir!'

**'** Hi, Iggy!' America calls out, sending a wave in my direction and a huge grin.

I roll my eyes to keep up my usual outward appearance. 'Hello, America.'

President Winters doesn't mess around, but instead gets straight to business. 'Mr Saxon, the British Army will stand down. From now on, UNIT has control of this operation.'

'I tried to warn you...' I mutter to Saxon, and America tilts his head curiously.

Saxon chooses to ignore me, and says in a mockingly dramatic voice to Winters, 'You make it sound like an invasion.'

'The First Contact Policy was decided by the Security Council in 1968 and you've just gone and ignored it,' Winters says coolly, unimpressed with Saxon's lax attitude.

Saxon sighs, feigning exhaustion. 'Well, you know what it's like, new job, all that paperwork. I think it's down the back of the settee. I did have a quick look- I found a pen, a sweet, a bus ticket... Have you met the wife?' he adds, motioning to Lucy, who steps forwards, smiling.

Winters narrows his eyes. 'Mr Saxon, I'm not sure what your game is, but there are provisions at the UN to have you removed from office unless you are very, very careful. Is that understood?

Saxon pulls a comical expression and lifts up one hand to mime zipping his lips.

President Winters frowns, obviously disturbed by Saxon's childish behavior (though he should be fairly used to people acting like kids if he spends so much time with America). 'Are you taking this seriously?' he asks Saxon.

The Prime Minister nods, still looking amused.

Winters sends me a glance that clearly says, _Why on Earth did you let him get elected?_ He doesn't say anything on the subject, and decides to get back on topic. 'To business. We've accessed your files on these Toclafane. But First Contact cannot take place on any sovereign soil. To that purpose, the aircraft carrier _Valiant_ is en route. The rendezvous will take place there at 8:00 am.'

Saxon begins to mumble something, his mouth still firmly closed.

The President glares at him. '... You're trying my patience, sir.'

Saxon raises his hand again and mimes unzipping his mouth this time. 'So America is completely in charge?'

'Since Britain elected as ass, yes,' Winters retorts, looking pointedly at me as he finishes his statement. He turns around and continues with, 'I'll see you on board the _Valiant_.'

'It still will be televised, though, won't it? Because I promised, and the whole world is watching,' Saxon carries on, still acting as if nothing's wrong.

President Winters turns back. 'Since it's too late to pull out, the world will be watching... me.' He puts a big emphasis on that last word and then struts off in the opposite direction, ready to take his own vehicle to the _Valiant_.

As Saxon leans in to whisper something in Lucy's ear, I try and shuffle a little closer, wondering if there's something worth overhearing, but America grabs my arm and pulls me into a bone-crushing hug.

'This is so cool, isn't it, Iggy?' he says excitedly. 'First Contact! Although, I made First Contact ages ago with Tony, but my boss doesn't know about him.'

_I made First Contact long before that, America,_ I think. _But only the Doctor really knows about that, other than me._

'We have a private plane ready and waiting,' Saxon announces to Lucy. 'I expect you'll be joining us, Arthur?'

'Yes,' I say as I watch America rush off after his President.

'We should reach the Valiant within the hour,' Saxon continues, opening up one of the back doors to a car that has just pulled up for us. 'My darling,' he says to Lucy, holding the door for her.

I get in the car, sitting on the other side with Lucy in the middle seat next to me. I can only assume that Saxon will be taking the seat on the other side of Lucy, but he doesn't get in the car. Not yet, anyway. He's too busy focusing on a police van that has just pulled up, and the people who are being pulled out of it.

The Jones family.

'Hi, guys!' Saxon taunts them as the guards take a firm grip of their prisoners. I make a move to get out of the car, but Lucy puts her hand on my arm.

'Don't,' she says with her usual dazed smile. 'Harry's got it all under control.'

I know I can't cause a fuss here. But why has Saxon ordered the Jones' to be brought here? He can't seriously be considering taking them up on the _Valliant_ with us... can he?

But why?

* * *

The Over PA announces, _'Europe now online. Awaiting confirmation from South America and keep tracking Japan...'_

I'm standing to the side of the room, the observation deck of the _Valliant_ , watching as everyone rushes around me. The chairs have all been lined up and the large table in the centre of the room has various refreshments and paperwork strewn over it. Right next to me, America is happily chomping away on a burger. He's still so at ease with all of this.

**'** I want the whole thing branded with my Seal of Office, not the UN, have you got that?' Winters is instructing one of his assistants.

**'** Anything I can do?' Saxon asks eagerly. 'I can make the tea- or isn't that American enough?'

**'** You could go for some tea, right, Iggy?' America asks.

I send him a glare. 'Not the time, America.'

'I don't know, I could make grits. What are grits, anyway?' Saxon persists.

Winters looks totally fed up with Saxon. I can't blame him. 'If you could just sit. Not you, Mr Kirkland. I'm sure you're still responsible enough to take this seriously, unlike _some_ people.'

Saxon turns away and walks over to his wife. I hear him mutter, 'Misery gut.' He turns to Lucy and asks, 'What do you think? It's good, isn't it?'

Lucy looks enthusiastic. 'It's beautiful.'

Saxon pulls a chair for Lucy to sit on. 'Some of my best work. Ministry of Defence. I helped design this place.' He takes a seat next to her. 'Every detail.'

I'm unnerved at the thought of him having played a part in the creation of the _Valliant_. I'm still not even sure why I should be concerned.

But I am.

'Two minutes, everyone,' Winters calls as he walks up stairs to landing, overlooking the rest of the room. 'According to the treaty, all armed personnel are requested to leave the flight deck immediately, thank you.'

**'** Oh no...' I whisper, loud enough for only America, who's sitting beside me, to hear. I'm unhappy about our only form of defense being taken away. What if the Toclafane turn on us? 'This feels like a bad idea...'

'What do you mean?' America asks. 'It was your Prime Minister who had the idea in the first place.'

I watch Saxon, a few seats away, offer Lucy a jelly baby. 'That's why I don't like this. I don't trust him.'

America shoots me a grin. 'Dude, lighten up. He's fun, like me.'

'He's nothing like you, believe me,' I say quietly.

'Broadcasting at 7:58, with the arrival time for eight hundred hours exactly. And good luck to all of us,' President Winters calls as the cameras are all placed in station and the microphones are ready.

* * *

**'** My fellow Americans, patriots, people of the world. I stand before you today as ambassador for humanity. A role I will undertake with the utmost solemnity. Perhaps our Toclafane cousins can offer us much. But what is important is not that we gain material benefits, but that we learn to see ourselves anew. For as long as man has looked to the stars he has wondered what mysteries they hold. Now we know we are not alone. ... And I ask you now, I ask of the human race to join with me in welcoming our friends. I give you the Toclafane.'

In front of President Winters, the spherical aliens appear in midair, hovering around him.

'My name is Arthur Coleman Winters, President Elect of the United States of America and Designated Representative of the United Nations. I welcome you to the planet Earth and its associated moon.'

**'You're not the Master,'** one of the spheres says bluntly.

**'We like the Mr Master,'** another adds.

**'We don't like you,'** a third one states.

_Master...?_

President Winters seems flustered. He definitely isn't expecting this. 'I- I can be master if you so wish. I will accept mastery over you, if that is God's will.'

**'Man is stupid,'** a sphere with a male voice giggles.

**'Master is our friend,'** another male one continues.

**'Where's my Master, pretty please?'** a female one asks.

'Oh, all right then. It's me. Ta da!' Saxon grins, jumping up from his seat and clapping his hands excitedly. 'Sorry, sorry, I have this effect. People just get obsessed. Is it the smile? Is it the aftershave? Is it the capacity to laugh at myself? I don't know. It's crazy.'

'Saxon, stand down!' I shout at him. He just grins annoyingly at me.

'Saxon, what are you talking about?' President Winters snaps.

'I'm taking control, Uncle Sam, starting with you,' Saxon says, a menacing look on his face as he approaches the President. He turns to the nearest sphere and very calmly says, 'Kill him.'

From within an opening slot in one of the spheres, a gun-like weapon is pointed at Winters and in a small blast the man literally disintegrates into little pieces, ash swirling around the spot where the President once stood and an echo of his final scream. People cry out in distress and guns are quickly drawn as the guards rush back into the room. Saxon laughs and applauds.

'Guards,' he calls out, and to my horror they appear to obey him.

'Nobody move! Nobody move!' one of them calls out.

'Saxon!' I yell, jumping to my feet.

He turns to me. 'Sorry, Arthur. I'm not really gonna answer to that one now. Not from you, anyway. You've met the real me before. You just don't realise who I am yet.'

'... The Master,' I murmur, the horror of the situation quickly dawning on me. The Toclafane call this man the Master. Harold Saxon... that was just a mask, wasn't it? He's the Master. He's the Doctor's childhood friend. He's our enemy. He's not who he's been pretending to be. It was all a lie. All this time, it was... it was the Master. I let the Master take control. This is my fault.

'Now then, people of the Earth. Please attend carefully,' the Master says, looking straight into one of the cameras. He doesn't get to continue, however, because a new situation has arisen. Someone is trying to run forwards, only to be quickly restrained by two guards.

And I recognise him. I only saw him a few days ago, after all.

It's the Doctor. His tenth incarnation. He came after all.

A slimmer of hope spreads through me.

'We meet at last, Doctor,' the Master says with that menacing smile of his. 'Oh, I love saying that.'

The Doctor is brought to his knees, his face panicked and wild. 'Stop it! Stop it now!'

The Master leans down. 'As if a perception filter's going to work on me. And look, it's the girlie and the freak. Although, I'm not sure which one's which.' I glance over to see Captain Jack Harkness and Martha Jones standing there, both looking alarmed. Jack quickly runs forwards, obviously with some plan of attack, but the Master whips something out of his pocket and with a burst of red light that hits Jack squarely in the chest, the man falls to the ground, seemingly dead, although I know that won't be for long. I know Jack personally, and I know about how he can't die. At least, not permanently.

'Laser screwdriver. Who'd have sonic?' the Master explains at the Doctor's expression. 'And the good thing is, he's not dead for long. I get to kill him again!'

'Master, just calm down. Just look at what you're doing. Just stop. If you could see yourself-' the Doctor begins.

The Master leans back and winces, lifting his hand to his head. 'Oh, do excuse me. Little bit of personal business. Back in a minute. Let him go.'

The guards release the Doctor, who falls to the ground. 'It's that sound. The sound in your head. What if I could help?'

'Oh, how to shut him up?' the Master says with a sigh. 'I know. Memory Lane. Professor Lazarus. Remember him and his genetic manipulation device? What, did you think that little Tish got that job merely by coincidence? I've been laying traps for you all this time. And if I can concentrate all that Lazarus technology into one little screwdriver?' He lifts up his laser screwdriver. 'But, ooh, if I only had the Doctor's biological code...' He broods mockingly for a second, before looking overjoyed. 'Oh, wait a minute, I do!' He walks over to a large metal briefcase he has stashed away under his chair and reveals something truly grotesque- a hand in a jar filled with water.

'I've got his hand. And if Lazarus made himself younger, what if I reverse it? Another hundred years?'

The Master aims his screwdriver at the Doctor, and presses down on a button. I rush forwards to try and grab the device off the Master, but someone grabs me from behind and pulls me roughly away. I twist around, ready to punch whichever guard has decided to mess with the wrong country, only to find familiar blue eyes glaring right back at me.

'England,' America growls, no hint of his usual playful nature in his voice. 'What's going on? President Winters-'

'America-' I gasps, trying to wrench my way out of his grip. 'You have to let me go! I can help!'

'Your Prime Minister just killed my President!' America snarls. It's been a while since I've seen him this angry. It kind of scares me- both because it seems so unnatural for him to act like this, and because with this level of rage, who knows what he will do?

'I had no idea this would happen!' I protest. 'I'm so sorry, but I have to stop Saxon!'

'Damn right! That guy's a psychopath! Was this some big plan?'

'My people had nothing to do with this! It's Saxon! He's working with the bloody Toclafane! They're the enemies!'

America's grip loosens slightly. I see a flash of relief in his eyes, almost as if he's glad that I played no part in this. But I have to help the Doctor, and America still isn't letting me go. I twist my head to turn back to the Doctor, only to find his body going into rapid convulsions, way too fast for my eyes to properly focus on. The Master said something about Lazarus's technology. What's he doing to the Doctor?

'Let me go, America! I have to help him!' I shout, struggling to get out of America's grip.

'He'll get you too!' America says. 'He'll kill you!' And I can hear the genuine concern in America's voice as he tries pulling me away from the Master and the Doctor. 'I can try something-'

'Don't you dare start with the bloody hero speech!' I say. 'The Master really will kill you. He might spare me.'

'Why?'

'The Doctor is my ally. He'll want to keep me alive,' I say, still trying to push America off me. 'Please, I have to help the Doctor!'

Jack begins to stir from the spot on the floor where he fell. Martha is at his side, helping him up into a sitting position.

'Teleport,' he gasps, wincing in pain. I can clearly see the vortex manipulator strapped to his wrist, a time travelling device.

'I can't,' Martha replies, shocked.

'We can't stop him. Get out of here. Get out,' Jack insists.

Lucy Saxon is still wearing that dazed expression, though she looks a little unhappy with all of this. The Master stops zapping the Doctor and lets his hand fall to his side, the laser screwdriver no longer being pointed at the Doctor. Or what was once the Doctor. In the place of my Time Lord friend is a withered old man who looks at least a hundred years old. He is mostly bald aside from little wisps of white hair here and there and his skin is so very wrinkly. But he's wearing the Doctor's clothes and I'd know those sad brown eyes anywhere.

Martha rushes forwards to the old man, quickly grabbing onto his arms. 'Doctor? I've got you.'

The Master looks pleased. 'Ah, she's a would be doctor. But tonight, Martha Jones, we've flown them in all the way from prison.'

I glance at the doors to the observation deck. Clive, Tish and Francine Jones, Martha's family with the exception of Leo, are brought in by guards, their wrists fastened together with cable ties.

'Come on, move,' a guard instructs.

'Mum,' Martha whimpers, glancing at the face of her tear-stricken mother.

'I'm sorry,' Francine Jones sobs.

'The Toclafane,' the old Doctor grunts, lifting his shaking head to stare up at the Master. 'What are they? Who are they?'

The Master bends down and reaches out to press his hand against the Doctor's chest. 'Doctor, if I told you the truth, your hearts would break.'

'You wouldn't care!' I spit, throwing myself forwards, pulling America along with me. 'You're a monster.'

The Master holds his own chest, this time, feigning a wince. 'Oh, you wound me, England.' He glances over to the nearest guard, who nods and quickly pushes America out the way and punches me so hard in the back of the head that I hear a ringing noise in my ears and my vision goes black for a second as my body crumbles to the ground.

'Iggy!' America shrieks, and I hear shuffling and some punches being thrown, which I can only imagine is America throwing off his guards in an effort to get to me. Always the hero.

I lift my head up slightly, unable to make my body function properly. I can see the Master holding up his laser screwdriver and pointing it at something behind me, which must be America.

'... No...!' I croak.

There's a beam of light from the laser, a grunt of pain and something crashes to the ground behind me. I push myself off the ground and twist around to see America lying nearby me, his eyes closed and his body not moving.

'Ame-!'

'Relax,' the Master says lazily. 'I put the beam on a low setting. Besides, it would take a lot more than that to kill a country, especially a powerful one like you or him. I wouldn't mind keeping him around, anyway.'

I crawl over to the other nation, quickly checking his throat for a pulse. The Master isn't lying; America is still alive. Relief sweeps over me and I turn back to face the Master, knowing that even though I've been wounded and I can actually taste blood in my mouth, I'm one of the only people left who can stop this.

**'Is it time? Is it ready?'** one of the Toclafane asks.

**'Is the machine singing?'** another one adds.

The Master grins and rushes up to the balcony overlooking the rest of the room, glancing over at one of the cameras, all of which are miraculously still filming. Everyone on Earth can see this. Everyone. 'Two minutes past. So, Earthlings. Basically, er, end of the world.' He stands up straight and leans on the railing, holding up his laser screwdriver with his free hand. 'Here- come- the drums!'

I hear a huge crashing noise resonating through the sky outside the _Valiant_ and I risk a glance through the nearest window. A huge black tear with a reddish hue is ripping its way through the sky above the _Valiant_ and thousands of Toclafane are emerging from its depths, pouring out into the atmosphere and descending towards the Earth.

The Master and Lucy are gazing out through one of the windows, both in awe with the anomaly in the sky and the millions of spheres that are shooting out of it. 'How many do you think?' the Master asks.

'I... I don't know,' Lucy says, stunned, her eyes glued to the sight before her.

'Six billion,' the Master says proudly. 'Down you go, kids!'

The spheres continue to emerge from the crack in the sky, racing towards the planet below.

'Shall we decimate them?' the Master suggests. 'That sounds good. A nice word, _decimate_. Remove one tenth of the population!'

The Doctor has leaned in close to Martha and is whispering something in her ear. There are tears streaming down her face as she gets to her feet and moves away from him, holding Jack's vortex manipulator.

'I... Iggy...' America is beginning to stir. I reach down to help him but the guard that punched me grabs a hold of me and hoists me up, quickly dragging me away from America.

'Let go!' I shout furiously, struggling violently to get away. Two more guards step forward to restrain me.

'Valiant _, this is Geneva. We're getting slaughtered down here._ Valiant _, report. Help us. For God's sake, help us! They're everywhere!'_ comes a voice on the intercom, accompanied by the sounds of people screaming in the background. Other reports in different languages are coming in, all sounding as panicked as the first.

America is climbing to his feat, wobbling unsteadily and wincing in pain. He manages to dodge a guard who tries to restrain him and stumbles over to me. I glance at Martha, who is now in between myself and America. No one except myself, Jack and the old Doctor are paying her any attention. The enemies don't seem to notice the vortex manipulator on she's not strapping to her wrist.

The Doctor must have told her something. A plan, perhaps? In any case, she's getting out of here so she can do something back on Earth to help. That much is clear.

'Martha!' I gasp quietly, an urgent certainty arising within me. 'Take America!'

She glances at me, her cheeks wet and her eyes heartbroken, and she nods.

'No- Iggy-'

'Get out of here!' I say, glancing up at the balcony to see the Master and Lucy turning around. 'Quickly!'

_'This is London,_ Valiant _. This is London calling. What do we do? They're killing us! The Toclafane are all around! They're killing us!'_ says another intercom.

Martha grabs a hold of America's arm and presses his hand against the vortex manipulator, sending one final glance at her family, who stare back at her, confused and terrified. Martha glances at me too, and then the Doctor and Jack, before she gets ready to use to the device.

'No!' America cries out, his face filled with shock. 'We have to get the others!' His eyes meet with mine. 'Iggy-'

'America,' I whisper, and in that very second, he and Martha disappear from sight, hopefully having teleported away somewhere where they'll be safe.

The next thing I know, I am being dragged out of the observation deck and down a long corridor, the guards roughly pulling me along. They open up a door towards the end to reveal a darkened cell with a very thin slit in the wall, a tiny window offering a small portion of light. I am thrown to the ground and I can feel the chains quickly being fastened to my neck, wrists and ankles. The guards leave immediately, while I remain behind in this cell.

I curl up in a ball and bite my lip to keep from screaming. Already I can feel the pain of my people getting murdered down on Earth. This searing agony in my chest is signifying a complete slaughter down below.

A genocide.

And it's all my fault.

I let Saxon rise to power. I didn't trust him, and I should have foreseen this. I should have worked out that he was the Master. I did this. I let everyone down. I could have stopped this.

I let the world end.


	3. Apocalypse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks have gone by in the story since the events of the last chapter. England has been kept in his cell upon the Valliant and is mostly unaware of the carnage back on Earth.
> 
> Warnings: Blood, broken spirits, mentions of several character deaths (well, it is the apocalypse) and one major death happening during the chapter, which was inspired by Tish's line in The Last Of The Time Lords, 'That man made us stand on deck and watch the islands of Japan burning. Millions of people.'

 

The chains are sharp around the edges; I can feel them digging into my wrists, feel the dried and fresh blood alike sticking to my skin, mingling with my sweat. The cell is dark, part of which I'm grateful for. I'd hate to be able to see the state I'm in right now.

I was once strong. I could fight any bloody monster that even dared _dream_ of ending this world. Even after everything, the wars, the collapse of the Empire, that power inside of me that I kept hidden from everyone only grew stronger, as did my secrets. Now look at me; I'm chained to a wall by my wrists and angles like the pitiful weakling I've become.

And God knows what that bastard has done to the other nations. He has ordered the Toclafane to destroy a tenth of the world's human population, but what of the countries themselves? Have they become part of the genocide? Are any of them even still alive, or are they confined as the Master's 'pets' like I am? It's been days, maybe even weeks. I have no idea what's happened to most of them, but I know that some nations have already died. Tish mentioned it a few days ago, but she didn't really have to. I could feel it inside of me when it happened, when certain ones were killed, because we're connected through the United Kingdom. I felt it when my own family died. But what of the other nations?

America...

Oh God, no. America can't fall. He's powerful. He'll fight, I know he will. He'll try as hard as he can to protect everyone, to be the hero he always claims to be. Will the Master reward him for his courage, perhaps try to recruit him? Or will he just ruthlessly murder him?

No, no, _no._ America can't be dead. I will _never_ accept that.

'Plotting your revenge, old friend?'

I spit out a clot of blood from my mouth and glare up at the widening light source in front of me as the cell door opens. 'Don't bloody call me that.'

'Aw, are we not friends... Iggy?' the Master sneers.

_You have no right. Only_ he _calls me that. Don't you_ dare.

'It's short for 'Igirisu', isn't it?' the Master continues, bending down to get a good look at my face. 'That's the Japanese word for 'England'.'

I say nothing; I decide to relinquish any polite traits I might still have and I resort to spitting in his face. Instead of saliva, it's more blood. The crimson liquid flicks onto his cheek. He doesn't even flinch and shows no indication that he even gives a damn.

'Talking of Japan,' the Master continues. 'I'd very much like it if you came out to play for a bit. There's something I want to you to see.'

Hope flares up inside of me. Japan might be alive and any chance to leave the cell can be seen as an opportunity for me to attempt an escape. But this is the Master. That smile he's giving me is subtle and so very cunning. Whatever this trip out the cell is, it won't be good news for me.

'You know, that little human friend of the Doctor's is becoming a bit of a legend,' the Master informs me as he uses his laser screwdriver to disconnect the chains around my wrists and ankles from the wall. 'Martha Jones... You know, I always used to assume you'd be quite weak. I mean sure, you _used_ to be an Empire. But all that power just disappeared, and what are you left with?

'A tiny little island. But that's not true, is it? I was wrong about you. You're not as weak as you let everyone think. You're hiding away your power, aren't you? The other nations think they know you, but you've been lying to them this whole time. But it's just you now on that island; your brothers are dead, you know. Scotland put up the biggest fight, but he was nowhere near powerful enough... What? Aren't you shocked?' he adds.

I bite my lip. '… Tish told me last week when she brought me my supper.'

The Master laughs and pulls me up roughly. 'You really are emotionless. I guess you are stronger than I thought. Your family are dead. Even that pathetic little wannabe country.'

This is news to me. 'You... you killed Sealand?'

'What do you care? I thought you never acknowledged him as a nation anyway. So, were you upset when Tish told you?'

I wanted to cry when I heard the news. I actually almost gave in to my emotions. I've always resented my brothers for how much they hurt me as a child, but I still almost let my feelings flow out. And now I know Sealand is one of the dead. After all the hurtful things I've always said to him, never making it up to him...

'Of course not,' I reply, holding my head high the gentleman I still hope I am.

_Show no emotions. Show no weakness. I will not give in to him._

'Come on,' the Master says silkily, grabbing my arm and pulling me forcefully along.

I haven't stood up properly for at least two weeks. My legs are scarred terribly and not one spot on my body has been left unscathed. I can barely walk. I trip but try and stay standing. I can't be weak. I have to stay on my feet.

'No need to pretend to be strong after all this, England,' the Master whispers in my ear, his hot breath pressing against my freezing skin. Despite it being warmer than my body temperature, it sends shivers down my spine. 'I know the truth. You may have your legacy, but that's worth nothing now. You're too sentimental. Look what happened with-'

'Don't mention him,' I spit.

'Who? I was speaking of two people: the Doctor and America. Which one were you thinking of?' He gives me a sadistic smile. He knows how much I care for them both. How I tried to stop him from weakening the Doctor. How I sent America back the Earth along with Martha to save him.

'Go to hell.'

'I've made this world hell. Does that count?' he says.

* * *

The Jones family are in their usual positions. Mrs Jones and Tish are waiting to serve the Master and Lucy. Mr Jones is bringing in a dish of food, two guards on each side of him to make sure he doesn't try anything. I'm told by Tish when she brings me my food that Mr Jones rebels in small but meaningful ways; anything to keep his wife and daughter safe. Leo hasn't been caught yet, and no one's sure if he's even still alive.

And Martha...

God knows where she is. Hopefully she and America made it to safety. I can't bear to think of what might have happened otherwise.

'Lucy, come over here and greet our guest,' the Master says. 'He's finally allowed to crawl out of the cell for the big event.'

'What big event?' I demand as Lucy Saxon bows before me. I notice the dark bruises on her neck, almost hidden by the sea- no, TARDIS- blue dress she's wearing today. So the Master abuses not only the entire word, but even the people who are meant to mean something to him. That bastard.

'Just a special occasion,' the Master grins. 'You and the Doctor have front row seats.'

My gaze finally meets with the sad brown eyes of the old man in the wheelchair a few feet away, sitting beside but not facing one of the windows. I can tell he knows what's going to happen.

'Someone should go and get Harkness,' the Master suggests, turning to the guards at the door. 'No one wants to miss this one.'

My eyes travel around the rest of the room. Guards at every station, windows polished and the view... well, I'd say spectacular if there were a view. The clouds are obscuring the Earth below, and I'm glad. If I could see what that monster has done to my planet...

Oh my- bloody hell...

It's Russia. He stands at the edge, covered in chains like I was in my cell. Instead of his usual innocent-seeming smile, he frowns. His violet eyes look dead. It's like he's... broken. His scarf is gone. So is his coat. Without them, he doesn't seem like Russia.

'Get over here, Russia,' the Master commands, his voice strong and authoritative. 'You too, China. You don't want to miss the show.'

China's here too? So the Master overpowered Russia _and_ China? This really is the apocalypse. At this rate, he's perfectly capable of defeating Amer-

No! I won't think like that. He'll never beat him. Never.

'England,' China greets me, his small figure quaking slightly. The guards have brought him in from God knows where and he's covered in wounds. No one has bothered to bandage him up. He has more blood on him than I do.

'What's happened?' I ask him and Russia as the three of us are lead over to three seats beside one of the window. I am put on the right one, Russia on the left and China in the middle. 'Are you alright?' What a stupid question. Why did I ask them that? Of course they're not alright.

Russia and China are silent for a few seconds before Russia says in a voice barely audible, 'They killed Ukraine and Belarus.'

His sisters. The Master has killed his sisters, just like how he had my brothers killed.

So they really have broken Russia. This man is just an empty shell of the great nation he used to be.

China and I offer our condolences, but it's not going to make a difference. What I learn next tells me that everyone is dying, and everything is ending.

'The Asians like myself have all been captured, aru,' China whispers. 'The Nordics and the Baltics are still alive too, except Denmark and Norway. They were executed three days ago after they rose up against the Toclafane. They're saying that Iceland is next, if anyone tries to do anything else. Poland's been killed and Lithuania's being tortured as we speak, aru.'

Russia looks down at his lap, not saying anything.

'Even Switzerland isn't safe, aru. They had Lichtenstein murdered when this all began.'

_This can't be happening, this can't be real..._

'France, Italy, Romano, Spain and Germany are alive, but they killed Prussia-'

'I know,' I interject. 'I heard the Master laughing about it when it happened. He said it was easy because Prussia was no longer a country.' I'm shaking with fury at both the memory and all the news I'm receiving.

_It's just a dream... this is all a bad dream. It will end. They're not dead. The world hasn't ended..._

'Australia, New Zealand, Ireland and the rest of Britain are gone, aside from you, aru,' China says hesitantly, obviously unsure about bringing this up.

I bite my lip and keep my grief to myself. I know the Master is watching.

'Netherlands and Belgium are dead, aru. And there was some other country I couldn't remember. He died when he tried to escape with France and the others.'

'Canada,' I croak, feeling ashamed that I even used to forget him. He, like all the others, must be remembered. I will not forget.

'Cuba's been destroyed, Seychelles has been locked away, and Austria and Hungary have been imprisoned too, aru.'

_Please don't let this be real. Please, please, please..._

I'm terrified to ask because the answer could break me _so_ very easily. But I have to know. I can't live not knowing.

'And... America?'

China sighs. 'His country has been brought down. Many states have been destroyed, aru. He himself is missing.'

A glimmer of hope swirls within me. America hasn't been captured? He might not be dead?

'He's strong,' I say, staring out the window. 'They won't find him. He'll find a way to beat them-'

'England,' Tish says gently, appearing beside me. 'His... his people have been defeated...'

'He's alive,' I state. 'That's enough. There's hope.'

'Don't ever believe that, old friend,' the Master says, approaching our chairs and sending Tish scurrying away in fear. 'There's never hope for your pathetic little planet. You're too weak here, all of you.'

'Is that so? Then what about Martha?'

I can immediately see that I've struck a nerve. The Master's smile fades into an ugly grimace. 'She's just a stupid little human. She won't amount to anything.'

'She's going to save the world,' comes the Doctor's hoarse voice from his chair a few windows away.

'The world's beyond saving, _Doctor_ ,' the Master spits. 'I've made it so.'

'Don't underestimate her,' I say coldly. 'She'll beat you.'

'You've put your faith in a silly little girl from your pathetic little country,' the Master replies.

'Martha is much more than that,' says an American voice from the main door. Captain Jack Harkness is being brought in by the guards, chains around his arms and legs like there were on me. His shirt is tattered and his eyebrows are scrunched together in pain, but he still grins and winks at me.

'You're ridiculous. Now,' the Master continues, turning to China, 'you put up one hell of a fight before I finally captured you. You've set my plans back at least a month.'

China glares up at the Master, but I can feel him shaking beside me.

'You're about to receive your punishment. Are you ready?' the Master asks, his face completely serious.

'You do not frighten me, aru,' China answers.

'Is that so? Well, get ready. You've all got front row seats.' The Master pulls something out of his trouser pocket. A weapon? Is he going to kill China?

'Don't-' I begin.

With his free hand, the Master hits me around the face. Hard. My skin burns, and over the sound of my ringing ears I hear him say, 'Hush now, England. You'll have plenty of time to talk in a minute.'

My eyes meet the Doctor's again. I can see from his expression that he knows what the Master is planning. He's strapped to the chair despite him already being in a fragile state. They really don't want him to try and interfere in whatever the Master is planning.

The Doctor knows what the Master is going to do, and he has no way of preventing it.

His eyes say, _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._

'Hey, Arthur,' Jack says quietly, leaning down to speak to me. He's no longer smiling. 'This guy can't be serious about killing countries, right? Can you actually die? Aren't nations immortal?'

'We can be killed,' I reply, trying not to think of my family. 'If the people are dying then we can be weakened. The physical representations of a country such as myself can be killed like a human can. The land and the people will be damaged because of it. I'm not entirely sure what exactly happens. I've known of nations who eventually fade as their legacies die...' I trail off. Jack's probably gotten the message. I'm more concerned right now with what the Master is going to do to China.

The Master is addressing China again. 'So... your punishment is...' He pauses dramatically, then reveals the item; a mobile. '… a phone call!' His mouth splits into a crooked grin, delighted at the shocked looks on our faces.

'… What kind of punishment is that, aru?' China demands, obviously having expected a lot worse.

The Master pouts. 'Don't you want to chat to anybody? I've already got the line ready for you. There's someone who wants to talk to you and guess what? I'm feeling generous.'

I glance at the Doctor again, wondering if this was all some kind of joke. But the Doctor still looks devastated.

There's something I'm missing here...

'So go on then,' the Master laughs. 'I'll put it on loud speak for you lot. Spill your hearts out or whatever. This is the last chance you're getting for this.'

What the hell does he mean by that? What's he not telling us?

'… N-ni hao?' China says hesitantly, staring at the phone. 'This is China speaking, aru.'

There's silence on the crackly line for a second, then we hear, _'Konichiwa? China-san, is that really you?'_

'Japan!' China and I yell in unison. Russia stays quiet.

_'England-san too,'_ Japan says and we hear him breathe a sigh of relief. _'I am glad you are both still alive.'_

'Russia's here too,' China says, actually smiling. He's not usually this happy when talking to Japan, but deep down he does truly care. This reminds me of America, and my chest clenches painfully at the thought of where he might be right now. 'Are you alright, aru?'

_'I'm doing better than some of the others,'_ Japan admits. _'Most of my people are homeless. Tokyo was bombed yesterday... Millions are dead...'_ I can hear the pain in the voice. It's always like that for a country when a major city from their land is attacked in some way. My mind flutters to all the memories of the London Blitz decades ago, and how much it all hurt. Japan must be in complete agony.

_'Do you know who is left?'_ Japan asks, sounding quite desperate.

And so China repeats all the information he gave to me, with the addition of the news of other countries as China recalls all the terrible things that have happened to the whole world.

'… and India has fallen too, aru.'

_'But where are you three, China-san?'_ Japan questions us.

'They're up here with me, watching it all happen,' the Master says with a small chuckle. 'Front row seats as the world ends.'

_'… Why are you doing this?'_ Japan demands, his voice full of pain.

The Master leans against my chair, his spare hand repeatedly drumming the rhythm of four beats with his thin fingers. 'Your last conversation, and _that's_ what you want to talk about?'

'What do you mean it's his last conversation?' I spit.

_'England-san? What does he mean?'_

_'_ Think of all the nuclear reactors on your land, Japan,' the Master continues. 'Imagine going out with a bang.'

A few feet away, a tear rolls out of the Doctor's sad brown eyes and slides down his wrinkled cheeks.

'Japan,' I gasp, an urgency entering my words as it dawns on me what's going to happen. I don't know how much time we've got left, or even what anyone could do to prevent it, but I can't just sit here and watch it happen. 'You need to-'

The Master's cold fingers close around my throat. 'I've warned you about speaking out of place, England. Hear your friend out before the big bang.'

_'I don't understand,'_ Japan says, fear creeping into his words. _'You've hurt my people enough already. You've hurt all the humans in this world. Please end this.'_

'Oh, it will end. For you, anyway,' the Master breathes, his eyes growing very dark.

_'What do you mean? Please, you have to stop this. The peoples' suffering has gone on long en...'_

From somewhere down below the ship, a huge explosion rips through the air, extinguishing all other sound until...

_BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP..._

The line is dead. A few seconds of shocked silence plague the room. Finally, someone speaks.

'Party's over,' the Master says with that wretched grin of his. 'It's a little too late, and no one will be listening, but you can still say your goodbyes if you want to. Or 'Sayonara', or whatever. We've flown the _Valliant_ over Japan so we can get a nice good look.'

Through the quickly parting clouds, caused by the blast, we can see the damage. It takes quite a few minutes for anything to be seen through the dense mass of smoke and ash, but finally we can make out a hazy orange glow somewhere far beneath us. Whatever it is, it must be very bright to be seen through all this dense smoke. And as we give the mushroom cloud some time to part and reveal what has happened, I make out the source of the glow, shaped like a very specific island friend of mine...

'J... Japan...' I whisper, staring in horror at the small island. It's alight in flames, not one spot of the land having been missed. The whole country is on fire. And... we were just talking to him, right before...

'… JAPAN!' China shrieks, throwing himself off the chair and against the window.

'You're insane,' Jack hisses from somewhere to my right, obviously furious at the Master.

'Well, it's more fun than being sane,' the Master replies joyfully, absent-mindedly drumming that bloody rhythm on the back of my chair. My eyes blur out of focus, the cries of the shocked around me growing muffled and distant as my concentration drifts away. My mind is now blank, the terrible grief at the thought of so many countries I care about (now with the addition of Japan) having died just tuning out until I feel completely emotionless. Now, the only thing I register is the sound the Master is making. The drumming.

_Tap tap tap tap._

_Tap tap tap tap._

_Tap tap tap tap._

_Tap tap tap tap..._

* * *

'Hello, Mr Kirkland,' Tish greets quietly as the guards push open my cell door for her to enter with my food. She catches my expression and probably remembers all those times I've told her to drop the formalities. It's not as if they matter now, anyway.

_'_ Hello... Arthur.'

'Hello, Tish. How are you?'

'The same.' She steps forwards into the darkness of my prison and places a bowl of stew beside me. There are tears in her eyes and a fresh red mark on her cheek. She winces as she talks.

'Did he do that to you? Or was it the guards?' Even as I ask, I can tell. With the guards, accuracy is not needed; they'll just strike out and the pain will begin. With the Master, precision is required. He knows exactly how to inflict the right level of pain for any particular punishment. For a wound that isn't as bruising as a normal smack, but quick to the point and more like a flash of lightning, Tish must have been trying to talk to the Doctor.

'The Doctor says to not give up,' Tish whispers. 'S-stay strong. We should s-s-still have faith.'

'He would say that,' I sigh. 'He's been in plenty of terrible situations, you know. He's nine hundred and three; he's seen so much...'

'The world has ended,' Tish says in a shaking voice. 'How can anything be worse than this?'

I decide not to mention what happened to Gallifrey, the Doctor's home planet. 'The world hasn't ended, because we're all still alive. We can still turn this around. We bloody well will.'

But the look Tish gives me is one of complete hopelessness. Her sister is down on Earth, trying to save the world, but all Tish sees is a hopeless cause. I understand it. She's given up.

But I haven't.

My family are dead. My fellow countries are imprisoned or worse. The world I have lived in is gone, perhaps never to return to the way it was beforehand.

But I will not cry.

_I am not broken._


	4. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: More depression, lots of destruction, mentions of human deaths, more broken spirits and false hope. I say false because it will get crushed later on. Probably next chapter. On the bright side, England isn'tactually angsting about July 4th. Funny turn of events, eh? But I guess when it's the apocalypse, you've kinda got more pressing matters on your mind.
> 
> Enjoy, and allons-y! (*wipes a tear from my eye as I evaluate the little catchphrase I tend to use at the beginnings of chapters* Ten and France would be so proud!)

Tonight, I dream of how it all began.

Eighteen months before that monster took over the world, he began to rise to power. I never trusted him. There was something about him I couldn't put my finger on. But these were my individual thoughts, just insignificant doubts at the back of my head. They weren't relevant; after all, I am the personification of this country and the people of this land. As long as the people took in everything he told them, I had to as well.

Now I know it was because of the Archangel Network. He was broadcasting that hypnotic signal of four beats, convincing the world to trust him, allowing the people of Britain to elect him as the Prime Minister.

Damn, it feels like it's all my bloody fault. I know it is. I've spent centuries trying to stop the world from ending. And I just made it happen.

But I didn't know that it was the Master in disguise. I just thought it was Harold Saxon, the young, slightly cocky, confident politician that everyone loved for some reason. I didn't trust him, but I did nothing.

I could go crazy inside this cell. I'm trapped in here day and day out. The only contact I get with anyone else is when Tish brings me food, or when the Master comes in sometimes to... inflict his rage upon me. I shiver at the thought. I... I don't want to dwell on those times when he enters. The only thing I can say with certainty is that it doesn't matter how much he tortures me, I won't shatter.

It's kind of hard to explain. So many people I care about are dead. There are cracks in my psychological wall, but they're not big enough to make it crumble. But it's so fragile, like it's made of a think sheet of glass. No, _ice_ is a better word. My exterior, the outward image of myself that I show the Master is cold and frozen. But the tears inside me, the ones that want to spill so desperately, are building up into an ocean behind the wall of ice. Soon, the ice will shatter, I will break and the Master will win.

_My name is England, or Arthur Kirkland,_ I chant inside my head to distract myself from the empty silence of my cell. _I am the last nation survivor of the United Kingdom. I am one of the countries who are still alive. I am trapped, I have been defeated, but I have not broken, which is what the Master really wants. He can't break me. I won't let him._

* * *

Days go by. Weeks go by. Months go by.

How long has this been going on for? When will it end?

I'm still convinced that it will. If I lose hope then I'll break; I'm certain of that fact now. It's hope that's keeping me going.

More nations have been killed. Just the other day, the Master disposed of Greece and Turkey. Apparently they screamed. A lot. The Master took great pleasure in explaining how he had them tortured to the point where their physical and mental endurance just snapped.

I find myself asking Tish what the date is every day when she brings me my food. I don't know why I need to know. The numbers I'm told only help me travel down the road to despair as I think about how long the monster has ruled the world.

And the Master still comes, and he still hurts me. He enters my cell to continue this physical exercise, because for some reason he still maintains the belief that torture will break me.

So I smile to show him he's wrong.

Then he hurts me some more.

My magic is sealed because of these damned chains. Some strange technology the Master has developed. But I am strong. I hope I am. I focus on trying to reserve some strength in my mind. I relish in the moments where the chains are taken off me and I am able to collect my energy and store it away before the chains are strapped on me again.

Finally, July comes.

And I know with certainty that I am going to give hope to at least one country back on Earth, because I know he is still alive. He has to be. I'm going to surprise everyone- including myself.

Through the window of my cell, I observe the sky. It's dark, probably around nine o'clock, but it's still today. Today is still the fourth.

The magic I've been building up on isn't enough to defeat the Master or even to release me from these chains, but I can use it for something. I can give hope to _him_.

It takes a while, but finally my powers kick in. My vision is shining as the magic is released. In the darkened sky outside the Valiant, explosions of red, white and blue fireworks flash across the blanket of stars and blackness.

'Happy birthday, America,' I whisper.

The Master comes pretty quickly. He has me dragged into the main observation room so that he can make whatever torture he has planned for me a public display. He might even film it and broadcast it down to the rest of the world.

Jack is there, too- probably because he's American, and today is July the fourth. At least I think he's American, going by the accent. Captain Jack Harkness has always been a bit of a mystery.

'Hey, England,' he greets me, actually looking quite cheerful despite everything. He has quite a lot of blood on his face. I would imagine he's got a concussion.

'Hello,' I say. 'I think we're in a lot of trouble.'

His grin turns into a grimace. 'Probably.'

The Master starts with Jack. He shows us a live broadcast of a group of people who have so far been surviving in what's left of Wales. Apparently they were off on some wild goose chase that the Master set up when he took control of the world, but they still managed to sneak back into the blackened landscape and smoking ruins and debris of a heavily bombed and completely obliterated Cardiff. It's the people of Torchwood. The screen shows them being tortured with knives and fire, courtesy of the Toclafane. By the end, Jack has worn his voice out from all the yelling and the swearing at the Master. He's so angry, but I don't think he's broken.

Good.

The Master moves on to me next. I am forced to my knees and he leans down to face me. 'I've got a message for America too,' he says. 'Would you like to see?'

I don't have the energy to shake my head. I'm too scared of what he's going to do.

It's another live broadcast, this time of New York. The Statue of Liberty, to be precise. As I watch, huge bursts of smoke are issued from its base and loud explosions rip through the air. The Statue of Liberty crumbles in a massive crash. The sound is not enough to block out the screaming of the people all around. My chest clenches painfully and a lump rises in my throat. I quickly force it down.

'I've been experimenting with different countries,' the Master says to me. 'I find that when you destroy landmarks and cities, the country feels the pain. I would imagine your precious America is in absolute agony.'

I bow my head, wishing I could block out the sound and unsee the images I've just been shown.

There's nothing I can do.

* * *

'Hey, Arthur...'

I open my eyes and blink wearily up at my cell door, registering vaguely in my exhausted mind that the voice I'm hearing doesn't belong to Tish or the Master. But aside from the occasional guards, they're the only two people who ever visit me, and it's not like the guards ever talk to me.

'Arthur. Hello? You awake in there?'

I stare at the iron door in shock, sitting up straight on the rough bench I am forced to use as a bed. This voice is _American._

'Artie? Seriously, I'm not say it any louder than this. Those guards have already killed me three times this week. They like shooting me 'cause I'm always breaking the rules, and I can add immortality to the list of all the things I've got going on for me.' I hear a dry chuckle following the humourous tone.

'J... Jack?'

'You betcha.'

I rise unsteadily off the bench, the chains on my wrists rattling in the movement, forcing down a small sense of disappointment that I feel ashamed of, because in those brief few moments in between sleep and being properly awake, in my dazed delirium I actually believed the voice on the other side of the door to be... someone else.

I actually wished it had been _him._

But it's not. It never will be. The only reason _he'd_ be here is if he got captured, and he won't be.

'Jack. What are you doing here? If the Master finds out, he'll kill you.'

'Yeah, probably. That'll be the fourth time this week. That's setting records, even for me.' I hear another soft laugh.

'How did you escape?'

I hear something rumbling with the lock on the door. Has Jack actually stolen the key? 'To put it simply, the guards are pretty thick. Tish's dad, Clive, caused a distraction for most of them, and the Master's not actually here right now. He and Lucy have gone on some trip to North America to see how the search is going for... well, you know.'

I swallow. I know who Jack means. But the Master won't find him. America can be stupid sometimes, but he's not an idiot. If he and Martha have stuck together than the two of them have a chance of staying hidden, and I know how resourceful Martha can be. She'll keep him and herself safe.

'There's no point letting me out, Jack,' I say. 'There's not much I can do up here on the _Valliant_ , especially if the guards figure out what we're up to.'

'Wanna go to Earth, then?' Jack asks as the door swings open to reveal him standing there with a cocky grin, covered in sweat and ash from the engine rooms where he's usually locked away.

I blink and stare at him. 'We're stuck up here.'

He winks. 'We planned this out for a reason, Artie. It was the Doctor's idea. He and the Jones' are, er... going to keep the guards entertained while you and I escape. And then we can figure out a way to rescue the others when we're outta here.'

He steps forwards and holds up another pair of keys, these ones specifically for the chains binding me to this room.

'There's no way we could steal a bloody plane. The guards would spot us long before that,' I continue, hardly daring to hope... but if the Doctor's come up with this plan, then there must be more to it than that. He must believe that we may actually succeed.

Jack shakes his head when I mention a plane and gets to work on the chains. 'The Doc and I were thinking more of a... vortex manipulator.'

I laugh bitterly. 'Martha took it, remember?'

Jack still doesn't look put down by my pessimism. 'The Doc says that you can find pretty much anything in the TARDIS if you look hard enough. Francine Jones left the door to the room that the TARDIS is being kept in unlocked earlier. The guards don't know about it. Like I said, this is a plan we're kinda all in on. Me, the Doc, the Jones'...'

'Russia and China?'

Jack frowns. 'No. They're in cells, like you.'

I take a few shaky steps towards the door as the final chains a taken off. Jack is quickly at my side, lifting my left arm around his shoulders so I can use him to help me walk.

'Thank you,' I mutter. 'We should find Russia and China. They'll be able to help us.' Even if we've all been defeated, the three of us were once powerful countries. We'll have a better chance of fighting if we're together.

* * *

As it turns out, China and Russia are being kept together in a cell that is slightly larger than mine, further along the corridor I've been kept on, leading away from the observation deck. Their door doesn't have a lock on it, which surprises me (but it's just as well, because Jack doesn't have a key for this one). On top of it being without a lock, the door is made of wood. Upon opening it and peering inside, I can see that the two other imprisoned countries aren't even tied down by chains. They just sit on little benches like the one in my cell, looking like hollow cases of the two nations I remember from the many years I've known both of them.

'China! Russia!' I whisper urgently, rushing over to them. Jack stays positioned by the door, keeping a lookout for any guards that might come along. The relief from seeing the other two countries alive is fueling strength in me once more, and I get the feeling that the longer I am away from those magic draining chains, the more stability will return to me.

Russia just stares at the floor, apparently having not registered my arrival. I reach China and bend down in front of him. His brown eyes have dulled and he stares back at me, unresponsive.

'Ch... China?' I ask hesitantly.

Finally, after what seems like an agonising amount of time filled with suspension and dread within me, but what must have only been a few seconds, I see recognition flash across China's face.

'E... England, aru...?' His voice is gravelly and unused.

I nod, glad to see that he knows who I am. I must look very different since the last time I saw him and Russia- a few weeks, maybe even months have gone by. I expect my hair is longer, and I recall a distant memory of a long time ago when I was just a small child and I tried to grow my hair out so that I would look as impressive as France with his wavy hair.

I must look weaker and be a lot thinner than I did a few months ago, and China and Russia appear the same. Russia's pale hair is falling in locks over his shadowed face and he still isn't showing any signs of moving, which makes me wonder if he is actually even alive. But he's sitting up on his bench and I can make out faint movement from him breathing. China's face is much thinner, appearing gaunt and with a haunted element to the dark shadows on his face.

'Why are you here, aru?' he asks faintly, his eyes still dull.

'Jack and I have figured out a way to get out of here,' I say, my eyes darting around the cell. There really is nothing here that is restraining him and Russia, and as I peer at the door I can make out that it can be opened from the inside just as easily as from the outside. I don't understand. This is quite possibly the easiest room to escape from on the entire _Valliant_. Why haven't Russia and China just left?

'Get out of here...?' China echoes.

'That's right,' I confirm. 'The two of you can come with us. We can escape.'

I wait patiently for either of them to register what I have said and for them to get to their feet, like a light bulb will flicker inside their brains or something and they'll realise they can break out.

Neither of them move.

'Come on,' I say hesitantly, reaching out to pull China up from the bench. He doesn't shift as I tug at his shirt.

'China...?'

'Artie... they're not coming,' Jack says from the doorway.

I swivel my head around to glare at him. 'What do you mean? Why not?'

Jack's voice is unnaturally serious. 'Look at them, Arthur.'

I glance uncertainly back at the two other countries. They continue to sit where they are, gazing dully off into space like nothing matters any more, and the sad realisation slowly dawns on me. They're not Russia and China. At least, they're not anymore. They're not what they once used to be. They're lost.

'You go...' Russia says to me in a voice that can barely be classed as a whisper.

I bite my lip. 'But... but... we can turn this around...'

All I get in reply is silence.

I rise to my feet and head over to Jack, the meaning of all of this sinking in. We quietly close the wooden door behind us, leaving the two nations to their isolation. As I glance back at the door, I notice a little black plaque on the door that I didn't spot before. On it is just one word to classify the contents of the room, written in the Master's scrawly handwriting:

**_Broken._ **

* * *

Jack and I sneak quietly into the room containing the TARDIS. The sight of the beautiful blue police box sends a tremor of excitement coursing through my veins, something that has always happened, ever since I was a tiny child, alone in the woods and the Doctor would come and save me from the monsters. But the light streaming through the windows is a darkened crimson and I can quickly tell that something is very wrong with the time machine.

'I should probably warn you-' Jack begins, but I am already throwing myself through the unlocked TARDIS door, staring in shock at the console room. There's a huge, fenced barrier around the centre of the room, blocking off the controls on the panels. The ship, normally glowing healthily in an amber light, is pulsating red in sickness. Even having been distanced from the TARDIS for a while, I can feel its pain. I can feel _her_ pain. The Doctor always told me that the ship itself has a consciousness, just like how the countries have personifications such as myself. I've always felt a special connection with the vessel.

'What has that bastard done?' I whisper angrily.

'The Doc called it a paradox machine,' Jack murmurs, coming to stand next to me as we gaze around the interior of the ill time machine. He's referring to the weird fencing around the console. 'I don't really get what it's for, but the Master needs it for something. I would try and destroy it, but we don't really want to draw any unwanted attention right now and the guards will figure out pretty quickly that we've escaped.'

'Right...' I rush over to the doors on the other side of the room, leading to the vast expanse of corridors within the TARDIS. I've been in this ship so many times, so I'd like to say that I know the layout pretty well, but the TARDIS is a living thing with a mind of her own, and she can alter her interior at will, placing rooms wherever she wishes and throwing dead ends wherever she likes. Not this time, though. It's like she wants to help Jack and I, because she knows that we want to help her.

We stumble across a useful room in no time at all. Inside is an assortment of mechanical devices, all mementos from the many different planets the Doctor has visited in his long life. It doesn't take long for Jack to spot a vortex manipulator lying on a rickety wooden table, covered in dust. He swipes it up and quickly starts pressing buttons to see whether it is still operational. The grin he sends me next tells me that the little machine is still functional. He straps it to his wrist and holds out his arm so I can grab a hold of the vortex manipulator too.

'Hold on tight,' he says with an excited smile.

I close my eyes, filled with relief that the plan has gone well, sadness because I'm having to leave the Jones', Russia, China and the Doctor behind, and apprehension because I'm about to arrive on my home planet and see all the damage that has been done.

* * *

I must lose consciousness or something, because I come to staring at a light grey sky. I'm not surprised that I blacked out. Vortex manipulators can give you terrible headaches when you use them, and I'm not exactly in the strongest state right now, am I?

I climb unsteadily to my feet to find Jack beside me, staring off at something in the distance. I quickly take in my surroundings. We're on a hill which I quickly recognise as Hampstead Heath in London; I have a city house not far from here. But the trees that always used to surround this open stretch of plane are gone- I quickly spot blackened stumps of wood scattered across the park and the ash is swirling around in the slight breeze, creating a small, mystical haze which initially shields my view of the city beyond.

'I set the vortex manipulator to track down the spot in which Martha and America must have landed when they escaped the _Valliant_ ,' Jack explains. 'It's picking up the residual energy from the vortex manipulator they used.'

'They came here? To London?'

'Must've.' Jack scratches his head. 'They'll be long gone, though. Those intercoms back when this all started kept going on about a slaughter in London. The whole city must have been a total battlefield.'

A lump rising in my throat. 'You're not suggesting that-'

'I'm not saying they got caught up in it,' Jack says quickly. 'Martha still had a perception filter. She and America probably used it to get out of the city. That vortex manipulator they were using was pretty busted, though. Probably only had about one use left it, and they used it to to get back down to Earth.'

'So unless they found other transport, they probably went on foot,' I say.

'Yep,' Jack confirms.

My vision is finally adjusting to the blurry shapes beyond the ash and smoke. I can make out the buildings of London beyond. Or rather, I can make out a few of them. But there used to be many more of them.

I can see it now. The rubble. The debris. So many of the buildings have collapsed. London is in ruins. The city is silent. My city has been brought down.

I fall to my knees, my vision going a little shaky as I am overwhelmed by a wave of nausea. I can feel the tears stabbing tauntingly at my eyes, but even though the Master isn't here and won't see, I still can't cry. He'll know if I do. The Master will somehow know if I break down. I can practically still hear the drums, as if they're stuck in my head like they are in his.

The drums are pounding against the wall inside my mind, making cracks appear, breaking it ever so maliciously.

_Tap tap tap tap..._

I can't let him break me. I have to keep going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. More doom and gloom. This trip to Earth for Iggy and Jack isn't going to end well.
> 
> And I apologise for breaking Russia and China. Jeez, I sound like a kid who borrowed and then broke their friend's toys. XD
> 
> Remember to review!


	5. Remnants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Her Evilness is back with another chapter for all you lovely people!
> 
> Warnings: Character deaths (including a real life figurehead dying), depression, violence etc. You get the gist of it by now. I apologise in advance for any emotional distress this chapter causes. After all, there's a lot of self-hatred on England's part.
> 
> Allons-y!

We stumble around the streets for a while, taking in the sight of all the ruins and collapsed buildings. Thick layers of ash reside on most of the debris, the fires having been extinguished a long time ago. There is no sound to be heard other than bricks rattling to the ground as the odd stray dog climbs over the heaps of rubble.

It isn't long before we come across bodies. Most of them must have been cleared away by survivors but there are still ones that haven't yet been retrieved, mostly buried under large piles or ruins with just a few limbs poking out to indicate that the corpses are there.

It is clear that this area of the city has been heavily bombed, which explains the random bursts of pain I've been feeling over the last few months while I was confined to my cell. These streets are obviously uninhabited, and with good reason; the buildings that still remain standing, despite everything, look as if they could collapse at any minute.

Eventually, we find the debris clearing up slightly as we head deeper into the city. The streets aren't really empty anymore- I can see people jumping in and out of shops through the broken windows, obviously scavenging for supplies. They appear to be just as lost as the stray dogs.

'Hey, buddy,' Jack calls, glancing over at a man whose hands are full of jars filled with food. 'You got any idea what the date is?'

The man shrugs, looking irritable. 'Who the hell knows? August, I guess.' He stares at us for a few seconds, obviously analysing how threatening we might appear and considering mugging us in case we have any decent supplies. He decides against it eventually and races off into the haze.

Larger groups of people can be seen as we continue on our journey. We come across a woman who is considerably friendlier than the man we spoke to. She tells us that there is a refugee camp a few miles south, and so we make our way in that direction. I begin to pray that we'll find Martha and America at the camp. After all, the Master has been searching for America in the States, as that's naturally where anyone would assume he'd be. Little does he realise that the personification of the USA doesn't actually have to be there. He could still be here in London.

But what of the rumours of Martha traveling the globe? Jack has already told me that there's a rumour that Martha was in Japan before the country was destroyed, and she was one of the only people to get out of there alive. It could just be a rumour, but what if she really _was_ there? What if America was too?

In any case, they're probably not in the UK anymore, let alone London.

* * *

We get welcomed very half-heartedly by a frightened group of guards at a large iron gate, who quickly open it up for us to step inside. The camp is boarded up by fences of barbed wire and there are people in UNIT outfits scattered around the place. There are tents set up on the streets as the buildings here obviously don't have enough room to accommodate everyone. While Jack goes off to see what rations we can get (thinking with his stomach, just like America would), I catch sight of a small mound at the top of the street I'm on, with some sort of stone monument jutting out. I make my way over it, quickly recognising it as a gravestone as I approach it.

Carved in unsteadily are the words:

_**In loving memory of** _

_**Scotland and Wales** _

_**and of their people** _

_**May their legacies live on** _

_**in the hearts of those who remember them** _

'It's weird, isn't it?' says a young girl, possibly only sixteen or seventeen, having stopped walking by the grave in order to speak to me. She's holding a box full of food supplies, evidently ready to distribute it amongst the people in the direction I've come from.

'They make it look like a grave, not a memorial or a monument,' she says. 'Like there are actual bodies there. Do you think it's like the Unknown Soldier, the one in Westminster Abbey? They found a Scottish person and a Welsh person and buried them to represent the Scottish and the Welsh?'

'Perhaps,' I say, trying not to think about this new realisation I'm having- one that's telling me that there are only a few feet of earth separating me from the bodies of two of my dead brothers...

'I haven't seen you before,' the girl continues. 'I know almost everyone 'cause I deliver the rations. You came in with that American guy.'

'Yes.'

'One of the commanders arranged this,' the girl says, motioning the grave. 'She gave this speech and everything, saying that Scotland and Wales will be remembered and that she and everyone should think of and wish luck to England. She said it like all three countries had... I don't know, a consciousness or something.' She gives a small laugh.

'Imagine that,' I say quietly. Curiosity gets the better of me. 'Who is this woman?'

'Commander Stewart,' the girl replies. 'She used to be head of some scientific research facility for the government or something. She's in charge of analysing the Toclafane.'

'Can you take me to her?' I ask. I need to know how she is aware of the countries having personifications, and if she's researching the Toclafane than she might have some more answers for me. This government facility the girl has vaguely referred to is probably UNIT.

'Sure,' the girl says good naturedly. 'I've just got to finish my rounds and then I'll show you the way. Are you hungry?'

'Starving,' I reply.

* * *

The girl, whose name is Charlie, leads Jack and I towards what appears to just be any other building, joined with all the other houses along the street. I suppose they've picked something that appears ordinary in order not to arouse suspicion amongst passing Toclafane. Charlie bids us farewell and continues with her food rounds.

The guards at the doorway to the main headquarters are understandably reluctant to allow Jack and I to enter.

'My name is Captain Jack Harkness,' Jack says confidently. 'I'm in charge of the Torchwood Institute in Cardiff.'

'Torchwood's gone,' one guard mutters. 'They tortured and killed them.'

There's a sharp, controlled intake of breath from Jack before he gets his emotions under control again. 'Well, as you can see, buddy, I'm still standing. Livin' and breathin', right here in front of you. So why don'tcha let us in?' he adds with a sly grin.

'We're going to need to see some form of identification,' a younger guard says nervously, glancing uncertainly at her superior standing beside her.

But I'm in no mood for this. 'Listen, we don't have any IDs on us, okay? Can someone just go and find this Commander Stewart and tell her that Arthur Kirkland wishes to speak with her?'

'Arthur Kirkland?'

'The man the commander mentioned...?'

'… The one she was talking about...'

Whispers resonate through the crowd of guards. They've obviously heard of me because of this Commander Stewart, which means she knows who, and _what_ , I am.

'She says that a man named Arthur Kirkland was up on the _Valiant_ when it all happened. How are you still alive?' the leader of the guards demands, narrowing his eyes.

'Just tell Commander Stewart I'm here,' I say irritably.

'The message has already been received, Mr Kirkland,' says a woman's voice from the other side of the door, somewhere inside the building. The guards quickly step aside to allow a middle-aged woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and a kind face step through. I recognise something in her features almost immediately, but I can't seem to place where I might have seen her before, or whether I even knew of her before all this.

'Please come in,' Commander Stewart says with a welcoming smile, ushering me indoors as if I'm merely a guest coming to eat dinner and spend the evening at her house. Despite her rather hospitable nature, I can tell by the underlying tone of her voice that she is a powerful woman who knows how to be strong when she needs to be.

'Ma'am-' one of the guards begins worriedly.

'It's quite alright,' the commander says easily. 'Mr Kirkland is to be trusted and shown the utmost amount of respect, as is his Torchwood companion. Perhaps one of you can show Captain Harkness around the camp and enlighten him on our current weapons status. I daresay he shall be able to offer you help where need be.'

'You gonna be alright here, Artie?' Jack asks.

'I'll be fine,' I dismiss. 'You go on with them.'

Jack is shown away by the guards, and I swear I can hear him already beginning to hit on the youngest of the group as they make their way down the street. Jack should be alright with them. These people aren't bad in any way, they're just scared.

'You must be Commander Stewart,' I say, turning to face the woman once we have been left completely alone and the door has been shut behind me. We're standing in the hallway of what was definitely once a family home; after all, the photos of the parents and the children cover the walls.

'That's right,' she says. 'My name is Kate Stewart. And you must be England.'

'How do you know who I am?'

She smiles again. 'Oh, we've never met, but my father knew both you and the Doctor. He was Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart.'

'The Brigadier is your father?' I say incredulously.

Her smile is pained now. ' _Was_ my father. The Toclafane claimed many lives.'

A horrible, dull aching is spreading through my chest. 'He's...'

'Gone. Yes.'

'My condolences.'

'My children are gone too,' she continues, the pain visibly reflecting in her eyes now. 'But you have lost far more than I have. Did you see the graves?'

'Yes,' I say, my voice shaking slightly. 'Thank you.'

'It's an international project. Those of us left who are aware of the countries' true identities are placing memorials in surviving neighbouring countries to represent those who have fallen,' Kate says. 'For instance, the UNIT base in Berlin has decided to place a memorial in Germany to honour the fallen ex-nation, Prussia. As you are the last surviving British nation, we have placed a memorial for Wales and Scotland here in your land. A small section of Northen Ireland has been unclaimed by the bombing, and so a grave for Ireland is situated there.'

'So every fallen country is being given a grave?' I ask.

Kate nods. 'A grave for Canada has been placed in Alaska, as America is the closest surviving nation. China is the location of the Japanese memorial and Russia holds the graves of Belarus and Ukraine.'

My mind quickly flashes to the two broken nations in their cell back on the _Valiant_ , having lost the will to live after their countries were brought down, their people were killed and those they care about were destroyed.

Kate goes on to list more grave locations for me. Australia and New Zealand's graves are in Indonesia, Liechtenstein's is in Switzerland and Poland's has been placed in Lithuania. As she continues, I notice her naming countries that I wasn't even aware had died, and I try not to let the shock show on my face.

'Can I ask a favour of you, regarding the dead countries?' I ask.

'Of course.'

'There's one nation who may have been overlooked,' I say, feeling waves of guilt and grief wash over me. 'There's a possibility that I'm wrong and a grave for him might be in Sweden or Finland, but if not, could you see to it that a memorial of Sealand is placed beside Wales and Scotland's graves?'

If she finds the request to make a grave for a naval port bizarre, she doesn't mention it. 'Consider it done.'

'Thank you.' I take a minute to breathe a sigh of relief, glad that I've finally done something right, then I remember that none of this would have happened in the first place if I'd only been a little bit stronger.

They're all dead because of me, after all.

'There's someone else here who will be very pleased to see you,' Kate says, 'and you'll be relieved to see her too. Though I must warn you, this new world hasn't been kind to her. She's old and struggling. Some sort of chest infection set in, and... she's not getting better. She's not long for this world.'

I tilt my head slightly, wondering who Kate is talking about. I think I know who it is, deep down.

Kate motions for me to follow her and she strides over to the staircase at the end of the hallway and begins the journey upstairs.

It's very dark up here. The windows are boarded up and the only light sources are the odd candles scattered here and there. I suppose they want to conserve electricity for other, more important uses.

Kate leads me to the second door on the left once we're both on the landing. It must lead to a bedroom. I'm starting to grow apprehensive now. Something tells me that what I'm going to see might... break the ice in my mind. It's going to move me somehow.

Kate opens the door and steps aside for me to enter. I take a deep breath and step into the room.

'Hello...?' comes the familiar voice of an old woman.

'Liz,' I choke out, my suspicions being confirmed in an instant, my shock causing me to drop any formalities.

As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I make out a small, withered figure in the double bed, looking right back at me with shining eyes.

'Arthur,' the Queen says in a relieved voice.

* * *

I rush over to her side and take her hand in my own, biting my lip to prevent myself from crying out. What I'd be crying for, I don't know. Relief for seeing her alive? Horror because of how frail and sickly she looks?

'Are you well?' she asks in a rasping voice.

'I'm fine,' I say quickly, taking her wrinkled hand in my own (is her skin meant to be this cold?). 'What about you, though? How are you faring?'

'Not well,' she coughs. 'But they're treating myself and anyone else with ailments very well here. I was so concerned...' She is interrupted by another coughing fit, then continues, '… about you. I know you were up on the _Valiant_ when...'

'I escaped,' I inform her. 'Not long ago. I was a prisoner up there.'

Her eyes trail down to look through the ripped sleeves of my shirt to see the scars on my arms, remnants of the Master's rages, but she says nothing.

'What about Philip? Where is he?'

The Queen's eyes fill with tears and I instantly know that Philip is lost now, and that it must have happened fairly recently.

'Charles? William? Harry?' I press on. She shakes her head, still looking distressed. I bite my lip to keep from a scream I can feel building up inside of me.

'None of them?' I'm referring to the rest of the Royal Family.

'Just myself,' she says very quietly.

I sink to my knees, now level with her. 'I'm so sorry.'

'Thank you,' she says, but she doesn't really understand how sorry I am. Does she even know how it's all my fault? She knows that I was there on the _Valiant_ with the Master. She knows that her people- _our_ people- are the ones that voted him into office. So she probably is aware that I'm responsible for all of this.

'Please don't look like that,' she croaks.

'Hmm? Like what?'

'That expression of self-hatred. It always saddens me to see you like that,' the Queen says. 'You wear it far too often, Arthur. I remember that look from the Second World War. I was just a child, but I remember.'

I swallow down the lump in my throat and blink repeatedly to force away the tears. 'I... I apologise...'

She coughs again. The motion causes deep shuddering through her frail body. I clutch her hand a little tighter.

'It's going to be better, Liz,' I say quietly. 'I know someone who can make it better. He's a doctor. I just need to find a way to help him first. And there's someone else I need to find. I don't know where he is, but I know he's still alive. And I will find him. Then we'll fix this world.'

The Queen smiles. 'I would love to see that.'

'You will do.'

Her smile is weak now. 'I don't think so. But I'm sure you'll do a good job. It's just a shame I won't be around to see it.'

'Don't say that-'

'It's alright,' she says with a sigh. 'It's fine this way. I just wanted to see my beloved country one last time before I departed.'

'Your Maj-'

'Will you cry, Arthur?' she asks.

I'm shaking now. 'I... I wish I could. I'm sorry.'

'I know,' she says. 'I wish you could let it go, too.'

'I'll break if I do. And then I'll be lost.'

'I know,' she repeats. Her hand, which was previously gripping my own almost as tightly as I was gripping hers, is loosening slightly now.

'You find who you need to find, alright?' she continues. 'Do what you can. Be safe.'

I nod.

'Thank you,' she murmurs, and then she closes her eyes.

I bend down and kiss her hand, trembling. When I reach with my shaking hand towards her throat to feel her pulse, I find nothing.

She's gone.

* * *

'I'm sorry you had to see that,' Kate says as she and I step out of the house around thirty minutes later. I haven't stopped shaking, though I'm trying to cover it.

'Don't be,' I reply. 'I'm glad I was there.'

'I'll prepare a funeral,' she says. 'Are you planning on staying here?'

I shake my head. 'I'll stay to say goodbye to her properly, but I have to go on. I need to find any of the surviving nations.'

'America came through here,' Kate tells me. 'A few months ago, back when we were only just beginning to set up this camp. He was accompanied by the Doctor's current companion, Martha Jones. They moved on pretty quickly. I'm sorry, but that's all I know. They didn't say where they were going. I just assumed that America would be heading back to his own land.'

'Thank you,' I say.

Later on this evening, once the sky is dark, Kate arranges a large gathering for everyone in the camp to attend. Each person lights a candle and places on the ground at their feet, forming a circle around a newly dug grave, not far from the graves of my brothers. A casket is lowered into the grave carefully, and after a while, voices begin to break out amongst the crowd. Pretty soon, everyone is quietly singing God Save the Queen. We have no new heir to celebrate in the apocalypse, so it looks like the monarchy is ending here.

'How ya doing?' Jack asks as he takes a place standing beside me.

'I'm fine.'

Kate steps up to say a few words in honour of the Queen. I find myself unable to concentrate on what she's saying. I just want to leave right now, the pain is that intense. I need to get out of here as soon as possible.

**'Silly little humans. Saying goodbye to dead people.'**

**'You will all be dead little humans, too.'**

There are screams amongst the crowd as the voices of the Toclafane resonate through the streets. Jack and I are immediately on our guard, glancing up into the darkened sky to faintly make out the spherical killing machines descending upon the camp, weapons out and ready to shoot at people.

'Hold your fire!' I yell, pushing my way through the crowd to make myself visible for the Toclafane. They've allowed these humans to exist so far without killing them, so why would they want to attack now? The only logical conclusion I can come to is that the guards up on the _Valiant_ have realised that I have escaped, and the Toclafane are looking for me.

But only one person can control the Toclafane, and that is the Master. Which means that they'll be here on his orders. Which means that _he_ knows I've escaped.

 **'The little country country shows itself,'** says one Toclafane with a female voice, giggling. **'Silly little England.'**

**'Lonely little England.'**

'Why are you here?' I demand, already knowing the answer but needing to be sure anyway.

**'Mister Master wants you back in your cage.'**

I wrack my mind quickly. What am I meant to do? If I go with them, I'll be trapped in my cell again. If I don't, there will probably be a massacre here. Then again, I imagine the Toclafane are going to punish these people for 'harbouring' me, anyway. Whatever happens here, people are probably going to die. If I stay, I'm going to fight. But the Master was right about me. Right now, I'm just a weak little country. My magic will barely be enough to take one out. There are weapons here in camp, but not enough to be distributed amongst everyone. Plus, no one really has a weapon on them, not even the guards. Tonight is the night we let all our defences down. No one was prepared for this.

'Captain Jack has a vortex manipulator, hasn't he?' Kate says quickly to me, a look of panic in her eyes.

'Yes, but-'

'Then you need to go,' Kate continues urgently. 'Get out of here.'

'What? No!'

'You need to stay alive, England. It's you they want. You can't let them get you.'

'But everyone here-' I'm interrupted as someone slams into me. People are running for cover from the Toclafane in a mass panic.

'Head for Paris!' Kate yells at me. 'Some of the surviving European nations are being kept there! Find them!'

'But I can't leave!' I shout back, and I mean it. Just a few minutes ago, all I could think about was getting as far away as possible from here, and now I know I can't leave these people behind. Once again, it's all my fault.

'We'll manage!'

'C'mon, Arthur!' Jack calls out, reaching me and grabbing me by the arm. 'We gotta do what she said!'

Jets of red lights are being fired from the sky and already I can see people being struck by them, only to disintegrate into swirling piles of ash moments later. Jack has quickly linked his arm with mine and is jabbing in coordinates on his vortex manipulator at a furious pace.

Through the haze of dust from the people rushing about in a disoriented fashion and the darkness of the night, I make out the familiar face of the teenager, Charlie. Her eyes are wide in terror, which quickly converts to pain and shock as one of the red jets hits her squarely in the chest. She has just enough time for her eyes to meet with mine, frightened and confused, before her whole image is shattered into ash.

'Done!' Jack announces, pressing the final button. The whole scene dissolves and Jack and I are spinning through darkness. But it's not dark for me. I can still see it all, replaying in my mind. Charlie and the others dying. The camp being destroyed. My Queen's final words. It's all still here inside my head.

 _Ready to break?_ leers a voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like the Master's.

I close my eyes as tight as I can and lose consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to hell for writing this fic. I just killed off the Queen.
> 
> We'll be seeing some of the other European nations in the next chapter: France, Italy, Romano, Germany and Spain to be specific.
> 
> Remember to review, and bye!


	6. Revolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back again! Hey everyone!
> 
> This chapter is nice. You see, this chapter and the next chapter were meant to be one, but together they were too long. Therefore, all the horrible deaths and stuff are going to be in the next chapter, which means... *drumroll* NO DEATHS IN THIS CHAPPY! I'm so nice!
> 
> Still 100% angst, but hey, you should so be used to that by now.
> 
> (PS. the song used is obviously Radioactive by Imagine Dragons. Seriously, it was literally any excuse to use that song in a fic for me.)
> 
> Allons-y!

_I'm waking up to ash and dust_

_I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust_

_I'm breathing in the chemicals_

My body smashes against something, and I have just enough time to curse Jack for not aiming our landing properly before I've bounced off the solid object and having landed on the ground, wincing in pain. Beside me, Jack groans.

'Think we hit a wall,' he mutters. I nod in agreement and look up to confirm he's right. A graffiti covered brick wall is directly in front of us, the language distinguishably French with a few English words here and there.

'Are we in Paris yet?' I ask.

He scratches his head, climbing to his feet and helping me up. 'If the vortex manipulator worked, then yeah. We should be here by now.'

We've taken the journey in steps. Jack insisted beforehand that we shouldn't head straight from London to Paris in one leap, but instead doing a load of much smaller hops in between so as to not use up the energy in the vortex manipulator in one big burst. I was a little concerned when we reached the coast because I was slightly unnerved by the idea of accidentally landing in the middle of the Channel or something, but we made it across safely from Dover to the French coast. A few more leaps from then on out, and now we're here.

It's taken us around half a day to make this journey. We left at some point in the evening and the sun is high up in the sky now. After each leap, we've taken to resting because of the intense headaches the travelling causes. I'm still quite dizzy on my feet and when I get a good look at myself in the cracked, grimy window of the building in front, all I can see is a painfully thin, pale man with scars on every visible parts of my body and overgrown blonde hair that practically falls over my eyes. If America were here, he would proclaim that I look like a zombie.

Somehow, Jack still seems as chipper as ever, though I can see a darkened, rather haunted look in his eyes, something he's obviously trying to suppress, and I remember what they did to the Torchwood Institute in Cardiff, what they did to Gwen Cooper and the others...

'What now?' Jack asks after a moment's thought.

'We find the other nations,' I reply immediately. 'Kate Stewart told me that some of the surviving nations have grouped together in the city.'

'And after that?'

'We... I don't know, we team up and... get ready to fight...' I want to smack myself for how uncertain I sound.

_I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus_

_This is it, the apocalypse_

Jack looks quite serious. 'Look, if you're saying that they really are other nations here, then they as a group obviously aren't strong enough to do anything substantial against the Master's forces, and I don't the arrival of one more nation is going to make much of a difference...'

'What did the Doctor say, exactly?' I interject. 'If this mission seems so hopeless to you, then why did you agree to it?'

Jack winces. 'It wasn't so much a battle plan as it was a... rescue mission.'

'Rescue mission? For whom?'

Jack sighs. 'You. The Doctor said that our priority was to get you out of the Master's clutches. He said that I should try and get you off the _Valiant_ and back onto Earth so that we could escape and figure something out.'

I stand in shock for a few seconds, before I let my rage take over. 'That old fool... He wasted all that effort just to save one bloody person? And he didn't even believe that we'd actually be able to do anything when we finally reached Earth again!'

'It wasn't some wasted effort, Artie,' Jack says. 'You're not just some person. You're a country. And you know the Doc better than anyone. He always believes there's hope. He thinks that the mission he sent Martha on is what is going to save all of us. The most we can do is try and find her and America so we can help them.'

'And did he tell you about me at all?' I demand.

'Huh?'

'Did he tell you about who I really am? Because you and I know each other fairly well, Jack, but I don't believe I ever told you what I've spent my entire life doing.'

'You mean lying. You've spent your whole life lying to the other countries, about the Doctor, about the Daleks and all the other aliens. You cover up with false stories and stuff. Yeah, the Doctor told me,' Jack admits.

'And did he also tell you about the fact that he and I have defeated hundreds of thousands of enemies over our admittedly long lives?' I continue. 'Did he mention the Dalek fleets and the Sontaran Empire and the Cybermen battle ships?'

_I'm waking up_

_I feel it in my bones_

_Enough to make my system blow_

_Welcome to the new age_

_to the new age_

_Welcome to the new age_

_to the new age_

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh_

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive_

_Radioactive_

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh_

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive_

_Radioactive_

Jack stays quiet.

'I lived another secret life that no one but the Doctor even knew about,' I say. 'I could be sitting in G8 meeting, trying to express the views of my government one day, and I could be running for my life through a distant galaxy, millions of light years away the next day. And I never told any of the other nations. If any of them even came close to finding out about my secret, I'd use my magic to wipe their memories. I couldn't bear the thought of them discovering the truth. Not because I was ashamed- definitely not. I never will admit it to the Doctor, but I bloody love the danger he gets us into sometimes. Traveling with him every so often without anyone else finding out is a consistent part of my life. It's all I've ever remembered, ever since he found me as a small child in the woods, centuries ago.'

Jack grins. 'You really have known him a long time, then. Have you seen all his regenerations? Are most of them as good looking as the incarnation he's in right now?'

I roll my eyes. 'I'm serious, Jack. I've been in on all of this for a long time and the other nations haven't got a clue. And I used to think that I really understood what it would be like, keeping this from them. I used to think I knew what it would mean for them if they ever found out.'

'And have you figured it out?'

I don't reply. I have figured it out, after all. To be honest, it goes without saying. I've always known how bad it would be if the other nations learnt the truth, but this apocalypse has really opened my eyes to the severity of it. I know what it means now. I've often stopped to wonder why, out of all the places on Earth, my country is always the one that gets threatened, attacked and invaded by extraterrestrial life the most. I've asked the Doctor about it countless times, but he's never given me an answer.

It's because of this other life I have. It's because of my connection with the Doctor. It's because the Daleks and the Cybermen and all the others know that I'm a friend of the Doctor's. It's because I've spent my life fighting them. It's because I know all of this. I know about their existence, I know about the worlds beyond Earth. I know about Gallifrey, and the Time War, and so much more. They target me because I know too much, and because they consider me a danger to them. And if the other countires were to learn about all of that? If they ever found out everything that I know? Then they'd be in the same bloody mess as me, and the world was chaotic enough without them all learning the truth. I was doing them a damn favour.

But the aliens are smarter than that. They still target those I care about. They've invaded other countries on occasion, and I've had to cover that up too. And now look; it was my job, wasn't it? My job to keep Earth safe from them. But I let that monster win. I had plenty of chances to do something about it, but I didn't see him for him who he really was- _the Master._ It's my fault. And now there's an army of six billion Toclafane and the Earth is in ruins and _millions_ of people are dead, humans and countries alike, and I-

I'm suddenly overwhelmed with all of it. Overwhelmed once again of the reality of my biggest mistake. Overwhelmed with the tragedy of this new life. Overwhelmed because I never, ever, _ever_ tell my life story, my real life story, and even now I can't say these things to anyone, not even Jack, a man who already seems to know a significant amount about my life, someone I would actually consider my friend.

Jack sighs. 'Damn, Artie. You seriously need to quit blaming yourself, which I know you're doing. This isn't your fault; it's the Master's.'

I say nothing. I won't bother pointing out how wrong he is.

I don't care what Jack says about how there is no ultimate plan. What he doesn't seem to realise is that I'm the one who's responsible for all of this, so I'm going to fix it. If I have to start a bloody war to overthrow the Master then I will. I'll find the other nations and we'll beat him together.

There's that small, child-like part of me who was hoping so much that the Doctor really did have a plan, and now all I can feel is the disappointment. He's always been the one to save the day, and I've always believed in him for doing just that, but this time he can't, so I have to take matters into my own hands.

Right here, right now, I make a vow to myself. I'm going to be the one to do it. I swear it.

I will kill the Master.

_I raise my flag and dye my clothes_

_It's a revolution, I suppose_

_We're painted red to fit right in_

* * *

'Did Kate mention which nations are still alive? The ones here in Paris?' Jack asks as we push our way through an extremely crowded street, filled with starving people all trying to get rations from a big stand in the centre.

'She just said a few surviving European nations are here, though I have no idea where exactly in the city,' I murmur. 'France should obviously be one of them. Paris is in a much better state than London, and the capital cities of each nation tend to represent our exact physical states.' After all, London is damaged but still standing, which sums me up nicely.

'We should change outta these clothes,' Jack decides.

I roll my eyes. 'Jack, as much as these clothes are dirty, now is not the time to make a fashion statement.'

'We don't want to be recognised,' he elaborates. 'We can't have the Toclafane showing up again.'

I suppose Jack is right. We can't have another massacre on our hands. So I agree and we make our way over to a heavily looted clothes shop. Most of items have been stripped from the racks and stolen, but we finally come across some suitable clothing. Jack finds a large blue jacket and I take a long black coat, complete with a hood. I need something to obscure my face, after all.

_I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus_

_This is it, the apocalypse_

As we're leaving the shop, we freeze. Hovering in the air a few feet from us is a Toclafane, clearly overseeing the human crowd. There are so many people around us that it's almost impossible for the metal creature to spot us, but I'm still extremely wary. I tug the hood a little bit further over my eyes and start off in the opposite direction with Jack following behind me, both of us keeping our heads down. We can hear the Toclafane giggling at the humans.

 **'Funny little humans,'** the horrid thing is saying. **'All small and weak and scared.'**

My stomach twists uncomfortably as I realise that the sound of its voice is getting louder, and therefore closer. Has it spotted Jack and I?

 **'And the nations are no different now,'** the Toclafane continues. **'All small and weak and scared. Just like you, little nation.'**

I halt, my eyes widening in horror. Jack stops too, both of us frozen in shock. They've found me, haven't they? The Master must have known that I'd search for France and the others here. They were probably waiting for me.

 **'Run away, little country,'** the Toclafane says in a sinister cackle, finally entering my line of vision. It swoops down right in front of me, but the blackened crack on one side of it, the part I assume is the bit the Toclafane race see through, is facing in the opposite direction. The creature isn't looking at me, it's looking at someone else in front of me.

'Ve! I'm sorry!' cries a familiar, rather high-pitched voice, and the figure quickly hurries away, racing off into the crowd of people. The Toclafane snickers and soars off above the crowd again, leaving the scene.

'Ita-' I begin, still completely shocked, before I remember that I don't want to give myself away, and it will seem suspicious to pretty much anyone if I recognise a country for who he really is.

'What?' Jack asks, breathing a sigh of relief as the Toclafane retreats.

'Come on,' I say quickly, pushing my way through the crowd so I can get to the other nation.

'Arthur-'

'Hurry up!' I hiss. 'We can't lose him!'

I can faintly make out a head in the crowd with brown-auburn hair and I can just make out a prominent curl off the side of the figure's head, quivering as he races across the street, weaving in and out of all the humans. He finally reaches the other side of the road and disappears down an alleyway. I tear off after him with Jack on my heels.

The alley is far less crowded and I can easily see the figure now. He's wearing blue jeans and a black shirt and I can see from his height that it's definitely the person I think it is.

'Wait!' I yell after him, deciding not to shout his real name. If I do that, I might draw more unwanted Toclafane attention. Instead, I use his human name. 'Feliciano! Feliciano Vargas!'

The figure shrieks in terror, obviously believing that I'm some sort of human guard working for the Toclafane and that I'm going to take him prisoner for whatever reason. I don't give up on the chase though. I've finally found another nation, and he might even know where some of the others are.

'Please! I surrender!' he sobs, still running as fast as he can.

'Arthur!' Jack yells from somewhere a lot further behind me than I thought he'd be. I think he might have gotten caught up behind a group of people at the entrance to the alley. I know he'll be able to catch up soon. I consider stopping to wait for him, but I might have lost Italy by that point. I can't afford to lose him, I just can't.

Italy dives off down a separate alley from the the one I'm running down, and I quickly swerve off after him, hoping that Jack will realise we've turned off course by the time he gets here.

This takes me back; Italy running from me and my forces, all the way back in the Second World War. Different in many ways, however. I _must_ find him and the other nations.

Quick as a flash, I'm thrown off my trajectory course. It's similar to the sensation of landing in a location after using the vortex manipulator, but this feels a lot more physical, probably because the thing that just slammed into me and sent me spiraling against the nearest wall _is_ physical.

There's an arm pressed very tightly against my throat and my back is pressed up against the brick wall. I'm actually lifted off my feet so that I am dangling in the air. My attacker is bigger and physically stronger than I am, that much is clear.

'Why are you chasing him?' the man demands in a gruff German voice which I immediately recognise. 'Who are you you?'

He has no idea who I am. My hood is still up and my hair has grown so long that it easily covers my face. '… G...'

'What do you want with him?' the man shouts at me.

'… Ger... many...' I choke.

His blue eyes widen in shock. 'How do you know my real name?'

'… It's... me...'

He loosens his grip and allows my feet to touch the ground. I slide down the wall, hands flying up to clutch my burning throat.

'Who are you?' he repeats.

Once I'm content in the knowledge that I can breathe properly again, I lift my hands up to the sides of my hood and lower it to help him recognise me. And I can see him looking at me now, realising.

'England?' Germany says disbelievingly.

_I'm waking up_

_I feel it in my bones_

_Enough to make my system blow_

_Welcome to the new age_

_to the new age_

_Welcome to the new age_

_to the new age_

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh_

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive_

_Radioactive_

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh_

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive_

_Radioactive_

* * *

'We... we thought you were dead,' Germany admits as he hands me a bottle of water. Apparently he and Italy are on a supply run for themselves and the other nations, and I welcome the water he pulls from the satchel he has around his shoulder, filled with food and water. Anything to soothe my throat (something Germany has been hastily apologising about).

'Dead?' I echo, but Germany doesn't get to elaborate just yet because we're joined by both Jack and Italy. The American is holding onto the squirming Italian nation, who looks particularly frightened at having been caught.

'This is the guy you wanted to talk to, right, Artie? He doubled back through a different alley and literally ran straight into me,' Jack says to me, and then to Italy, 'Calm down, buddy. I told ya, I'm on your side.'

'Let him go!' Germany commands, tensing up for a fight.

'It's alright,' I cough. 'Jack's with me. He's my friend.'

'Germany!' Italy squeals delightedly when he sees his friend. He rushes over for a hug (which Germany allows, and even reciprocates), and then catches sight of me. Although Italy often likes to keep his eyes closed, they're wide open now, staring at me.

'England?'

'Hello, Italy,' I reply.

'Are... are you a ghost?'

'No,' I say, feeling confused. This is bizarre, both he and Germany assuming I was dead beforehand. What's also strange is the way Italy practically launches at me, pulling me in for a massive hug. I mean, Italy has no bounds when it comes to personal space, but I've always believed that he's a bit afraid of me, and probably even more so if he thinks I've come back to life.

'Ve! You're alive, England! See, Germany? England didn't die!'

'Indeed,' Germany says, actually smiling. 'But that raises a lot of questions, England. How did you survive?'

'I- what do you mean?'

'Well... you were up on the _Valiant_ with America. And we know he escaped, but he told us that you got left behind,' Germany says.

'America was here? You saw him?' I say excitedly.

Germany looks uncomfortable. 'It's wunderbar that you are still alive, England, but we should probably head somewhere safer to talk. We don't want to risk being overheard.'

'Of course,' I reply. 'Are there many of us left?'

Germany winces. 'Some. Not enough. You'll see.'

* * *

'Who goes there?' comes an angry voice on the other side of a large, wooden door. The house behind it is nothing special; in fact, it kind of reminds me of the house Kate Stewart lead me into, the one that had Elizabeth inside it. I suppose discretion is important.

Germany sighs. 'Romano, you can see through the keyhole that it's us.'

'Shut it, potato bastard! I don't know who those other two are!'

'It's okay, fratello! One of them is England!' Italy says with a smile.

'The tea bastard?!'

I lower my hood again. 'Happy?'

There's silence for a few seconds and then the door jerkily creaks open to reveal a chain from the door to the frame and Romano's face glaring through the crack. 'How the hell did you survive?'

'I got lucky,' I say coolly.

He cusses. 'Well, shit. We thought you were dead, tea bastard.'

'I've been hearing that a lot today.'

'Are they back? Open the door, Roma,' says a Spanish voice.

'Hey, tomato bastard- guess who's still alive?'

'We'll discuss this inside,' Germany says impatiently. 'This isn't something we should be talking about out in the open.'

'Are the Toclafane out there now?' asks one final voice, this one French. I feel relief bubbling up within me at the thought of all these nations all still being alive.

'They'll be around sooner or later,' Germany says as Romano pulls off the chain on the door. 'You know that they like to inspect the neighbourhood during the early evening.'

'They can't know I'm here,' I whisper very quickly, and I hear a couple of gasps on the other side of the door, presumably as France and Spain recognise my voice.

'I assumed as much,' Germany said. 'You're on the run, aren't you?'

'What?!' Romano hisses.

'You don't mind harbouring a couple of fugitives for a while, do ya?' Jack asks with a grin. 'No? Great.' He steps in front of me and pushes the door open, ignoring Romano's indignant cry. 'Don't freak out, fellas. I'm with Artie.'

'Is that-?' Spain begins, trying to peer around Romano's shoulder.

'Inside,' Germany says firmly to everyone, indicating that we should remain out here no longer and finish this conversation indoors. I awkwardly shuffle in after Jack, with Italy coming behind me and Germany bringing up the rear.

Once we're all inside, I get a proper look at everything. We're in a hallway with a red tiled floor and maroon walls, though they look strangely bare. There is, however, a chandelier, making this house a lot more extravagant than the one I was in before, back in the London refugee camp.

Aside from the four of us who just arrived here, there are three people in the hallway. Romano, Spain and France don't actually look very different from when I last saw them, all those months ago at some world meeting that feels like it was in another lifetime. They aren't covered in cuts and bruises (as far as I can tell, anyway) and their hair length is the same as it was before. They've kept themselves in much better condition than I've been kept in. I must look quite deranged to them.

'No puede ser...' Spain says, looking shocked.

France takes a step towards me. '… Angleterre?'

I try act casual. 'Who else?'

'We... we thought you were dead...'

How many more times am I going to hear this? 'Sorry to disappoint you, frog,' I say, managing a smile. 'I survived.'

He smiles too. It's small and weak, like mine, but it's genuine. He takes another step forward until he's right in front of me, and then he pulls me into a hug. I let him. Physical contact between us has always been mild violence, but that was back before all of this. And I am so, _so_ glad that he and the others are alive.

I almost let out tears of relief.

Then I remember that I can't cry.

_All systems go, the sun hasn't died_

_Deep in my bones, straight from inside_

* * *

'America came here?'

'It wasn't long after everything went to shit,' Romano says, digging into a bowl of pasta that he and Italy have just made. 'The hamburger bastard was with some human chick-'

'Martha Jones,' I say.

'She's become famous,' Spain points out. 'People are saying that she's the only one who can kill the Master. Who exactly is she?'

'A friend of ours,' Jack replies, helping himself to the meatballs. We're all sitting at a table in the kitchen, having dinner together. The food is incredible, mostly because I've been eating mediocre leftovers from the Master's meals these last few months.

Germany frowns. 'So this Martha _is_ just a human, then?'

'There's no 'just' about it,' I say quietly.

'Is she going to make all this bad stuff end?' Italy asks rather innocently.

I have no answer to that. 'What about America? Where did he go?'

France smirks. 'Of course. Angleterre's first priority: Amérique.'

I actually feel myself flushing and I glare fiercely at Jack when he snorts with laughter. 'Well?' I prompt.

'We're not really sure,' Germany says. 'He and Martha Jones didn't really stay long. This was back in the early days when mein bruder was still alive.' He pauses for a second and I look anywhere but his eyes, knowing how pained they must be right now. He eventually carries on, 'We'd only just been brought to Paris, because the Master wanted to keep many of the European nations in one place to keep an eye on us. We're under house arrest, I suppose you could say-'

'More like city arrest,' Spain says. 'We're allowed to leave the house, obviously, but the Toclafane come to inspect us every day to make sure we're not up to anything.'

'America didn't stay long,' Germany continues. 'Martha Jones had some sort of mission and America said he was going to go with her to help her, because apparently, and I quote, 'It's the hero's duty to save this world'.'

''E and la très belle Martha were fairly adamant on rescuing the Doctor, Martha's family and, of course, you,' France says.

'So they didn't say where they were headed,' I murmur, feeling disappointed.

'They went east,' Germany informs me. 'That's all we know.'

'You haven't heard from them since?'

'Communications are practically nonexistent,' France points out. 'We 'ardly even get broadcasts from the _Valiant_. Maybe if we 'ad, we would 'ave known you were still alive up there.'

'How did you escape?' Italy asks curiously.

'Same way America did,' I answer, pointing at the vortex manipulator on Jack's wrist. 'I was locked up for a long while. The Master would only let me come out the cell so that I could... watch.'

'Watch?'

'The things he did.'

There's a dark silence as they contemplate what I've said, before Romano asks, 'Why did that bastard keep you alive?'

I shrug. I'm not really sure if I should explain to them about the Master's tendency to break things before he kills them.

'And you just stayed in a cell the whole time?' Spain says. 'You were just left alone?'

I don't know why (well, probably because Spain and I are known for resenting each other, I guess), but this rubs me off the wrong way. 'Trapped in a cell? Yes. Alone? No. The Master visited frequently.'

'Still sounds like you've got the better end of the deal, though,' Romano grumbles. 'Not getting attacked and not trying to find your next meal and everything. Plus, you didn't have to see all the shit going on down here.'

This infuriates me even more. Were they not listening when I said that the Master makes me watch all the terrible things he does? But they don't really know, do they? I don't want to tell them about the torture.

Sensing my discomfort, Jack changes the subject. 'We landed in London when we escaped. It's barely standing.'

'So we've 'eard,' France says. 'The bombings were severe. But I suppose you already knew that.' He fixes me with a peculiar look, and I realise he's contemplating the fact that the damage done to a capital city reflects heavily on the nation. I grow a little self conscious when I realise that he and Germany are both examining me carefully. They can see some of the bruises, can't they? I subconsciously pull my sleeves further down my arms, ensuring that they reach my fingertips.

'More, England?' Italy says happily, oblivious to the severity of the situation as he holds out another bowl of pasta.

I shake my head. I've lost my appetite.

_I'm waking up_

_I feel it in my bones_

_Enough to make my system blow_

* * *

'You weren't très 'appy with Espagne, were you?' France says later on as he leads Jack and I down into the basement in the house. The two of us need to stay hidden when the Toclafane come to inspect the other nations. 'Or Romano.'

'They didn't know what they were talking about,' I mutter.

'So, are you going to tell us what's _really_ going on up on the _Valiant_?'

I think about how to respond for a second or two. I don't want to talk about everything. 'China and Russia are up there.'

France halts, staring at me. 'Both of them? Why didn't they come with you, Angleterre?'

'They couldn't find the will. They're not themselves anymore.' The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop myself.

'What?'

'They... they're broken.' Why am I talking about this? I'm not meant to...

France tilts his head. 'Je ne comprends pas...'

'The Master kills lots of people, but he likes to break their spirits first,' Jack says. 'Total psychos like him have some sort of game with their victims.'

'Break their spirits?' Germany asks from the top of the staircase as he follows us down into the darkened basement.

'He takes the things that are important to you, and he destroys them,' I say. 'And eventually you give up, and he wins.'

France is sending me that weird look again. It's like he's trying to read me. I think out of all the nations here, he understands the most. And I can tell from the look on his face that this is because he's part broken too. Not all the way, but significantly damaged.

And I remember something China told me on the day Japan died about many of the lost nations, how France and the others were trying to escape the Toclafane when the bloodbath begun, and Canada didn't make it. Canada got left behind and he died, and that's why France is part broken.

'Austria and Hungary are in contact occasionally,' Germany announces. 'What's left of UNIT is trying to establish connections between as many nations as possible. They're being held in a different prison, further south. Austria managed to send forward a message a week ago informing us that Switzerland has been executed. The Master has taken control of the Cern Supercollider and is manufacturing it into some kind of massive weapon, though who he's planning to attack, I'm not sure. He's already defeated the entire planet.'

'The rest of the universe, I suppose,' I say dully.

Germany frowns. 'You mean he's planning on attacking any extraterrestrial life that might actually exist?'

'After everything you've seen, don't you think it's about time you started believing in everything beyond Earth?' I ask.

'You said you never believed in aliens, Angleterre,' France says.

'I lied,' I reply.

_Welcome to the new age_

_to the new age_

_Welcome to the new age_

_to the new age_

* * *

I can hear the Toclafane. Their voices are muffled because I'm currently locked in the basement with Jack so as not to be discovered, but I can still hear them taunting the other nations. There's a mirror down here in the corner. It's grimy and covered in dust, but suitable. I quickly inspect the changes France has made. A couple of hours ago, he declared, 'Angleterre, you are 'opeless at taking care of yourself.' And then he offered to cut my hair for me. He said it was because he couldn't bear to look upon my unsightly state any longer and we bickered for a bit about that, but we both know that he was doing it as a favour.

'Germany was talking to me about the resistance while you were having your hair done,' Jack whispers, knowing that neither of us should make too much noise. He smirks at my new haircut. Luckily, France hasn't styled it like his own hair like he did when I was a child, but has instead has made it look like it always has- short and messy. I'm grateful (though I won't let France know that, of course. I still have some dignity).

'Resistance?' I echo.

'That's why they've been communicating with Austria and Hungary,' Jack continues. 'Apparently there's a selection of nations and human leaders who are forming some kind of rebellion against the Master. They're calling it the Earth Revolution.'

I straighten up, intrigued by this. Earth Revolution? So there is something for us to contribute to. The Doctor didn't know about it, but at least sending us down here wasn't in vain after all. There's a resistance. There's going to be a war.

We have a chance to take our planet back.

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh_

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive_

_Radioactive_

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh_

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive_

_Radioactive_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave you reunions and no deaths and yeah, admittedly, angst, but that was a more cheerful chapter.
> 
> Expect any form of happiness to be ruined in the next one.
> 
> Just remember though, it's the Year That Never Was. By the end, it will all be reversed so that the deaths never occurred and the apocalypse never happened.
> 
> Bye!


	7. Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with evil content. Relish it. Heheh. You must like or at least tolerate it or you wouldn't be reading this XD.
> 
> Also, relish the bromance. France and England, mostly. Purely platonic (this is 100% USUK), but still awesome. ^^
> 
> Anyway, this is a very long chapter. I would have split this one too, but I was like, nah, the more, the better. People like big uploads.
> 
> Let's see, warnings: major character death, so much ANGST, fallen dreams, lost hope, the usual, etc. You know me.
> 
> Allons-y!

'You came just in time,' France says. 'We weren't planning on staying much longer.'

'Hmm?'

'It's why Germany and Italy were on the supply run,' he elaborates, 'and why we've been in contact with Austria and 'Ungary. We're meaning to leave Paris and 'ead south. There are plenty of 'uman refugee camps to shelter us on our journey.'

We're in the basement again with Jack. I've been in this house with the others a night and a day now, and once again the Toclafane are inspecting the building to ensure nothing is out of order.

I've spent the day mostly asleep, as I didn't really get any last night. I've only really talked to Jack, France and Germany- I haven't spoken to Spain and Romano since last night and Italy spends most of his time in the kitchen.

'The Earth Revolution?' I ask.

France tilts his head, clearly surprised that I am aware of the bigger plan. 'Oui... 'ow did you know...?'

'Germany mentioned it to me yesterday,' Jack says. 'When were you guys planning on leaving?'

France sighs. 'Tomorrow. We've 'ah time to prepare with extra supply runs and we've observed the Toclafanes' routine checkups around this part of the city. We're leaving tomorrow night after the Toclafane 'ave left.'

'But America didn't go that way, did he?' I say. 'He went east, not south.'

'Angleterre, as much as you want to find Amérique, it's far more practical for you to come with us,' France says.

'Wow, frog,' I say, trying to find a silver lining. 'You're making it sound like you'd be glad of my company. That's new.'

He smiles. 'Don't flatter yourself.'

Jack leans in to whisper in my ear. 'Artie, listen. I know how badly you wanna find America and Martha, but we gotta go with these people. It's our best chance of actually doing something good.'

Doing something good? I wish he hadn't phrased it like that. For all the good I do, it will never be enough. Never.

But I give him the answer he wants, because deep down I know it's the most practical decision, like France said. 'Fine.'

* * *

The preparations are in order. Everyone is shoving food, medical equipment and other necessary things to bring along for the journey into satchels to take with us. Germany says that someone has a truck waiting for us about two miles away that will take us down south, where we'll get off and board another one; the transfer is in order to keep hidden from the Toclafane.

I overhear Spain and Romano talking from the lounge as I shuffle through the hallway with a rucksack.

'… supposed to be some kind of weapon that can kill him.'

'Like what?'

'How the hell am I supposed to know? That's all I've heard. This Jones girl is meant to be looking for it or something.'

'What is Martha looking for?' I say loudly, opening the door to find the two of them cramming a couple of first aid kits into a bag.

Romano glares and Spain answers, 'Apparently Martha Jones is looking for a weapon to kill the Master.'

'That's what that Doctor guy told her to do,' Romano adds.

'No, he didn't,' I reply, feeling a little indignant that they would even suggest the Doctor coming up with a plan like that. 'The Doctor would never instruct anyone to do something like that.'

'Well, how else are we supposed to beat the Master?' Romano retorts.

'I want him dead as much as anyone,' I say frostily, 'but the Doctor would never want a decision like that to be made. It's not how he works.'

'Oh, and you'd know, would you?' Spain interjects.

I straighten up a bit. These two are getting on my last nerve. 'Yeah. I would. I know the Doctor better than anyone, and he always fixes it the best way he can.'

'Well, if you see him again, tell this Doctor bastard that he's doing a great job,' Romano spits sarcastically. 'Fat lot of good that old idiot has done-'

I'm right in front of him in three strides, grabbing the front of his shirt roughly. 'He has saved all of our lives more times than you've had hot dinners.'

Romano pushes me away roughly. 'And what's that supposed to mean?'

'You don't even know him,' I snarl. 'You don't know what he's done for this world. You don't know what he's going to do. He's our best hope.'

'You knew about this, didn't you?' Spain says suddenly. 'About this Doctor, and about the Master too. You knew about them before all this started.'

Spain actually being observant is enough to shock me alone, but this is the hard reminder of how badly I messed up. '… The Doctor is my friend,' I say finally.

'And the Master?' Romano prompts. 'Were you buddies back when all he was doing was running your frickin' country?'

'No. I didn't know who he really was,' I snap.

'But did you know this was going to happen?' I'm surprised to hear Germany's voice from behind me, and I turn to see him entering the room to join the conversation. 'Did you know all of this was coming?'

'No!' I growl. 'You were watching that broadcast on the day it all began like everyone else. You saw what happened. I didn't know what he was, or what he was planning. I tried to stop it when it all went wrong.'

This is the part I've been afraid of, because I'm too much of a bloody coward deep down. It's one thing blaming myself for all this, but now they all have the right to as well.

'And you weren't in on it with him?' Romano asks.

'Of course I bloody wasn't, you idi-'

'He was your boss,' Spain says. 'How were we supposed to know what to think?'

'Your boss took over the Goddamn world,' Romano agrees. 'For all we knew, it might have been some sort of new British Empire you were trying to create or something-'

'That is the stupidest sodding thing I've ever heard!' I shout, enraged.

'We thought so too,' Germany tries to reason with me. 'But you were up on the _Valiant_ with him, and some people weren't sure if you were a prisoner or a passenger.'

'You told me you thought I was _dead!'_

'We did think that, after what happened to London,' Germany answers. 'We knew you had nothing to do with this, England,' he continues, sending a pointed glare at Spain and Romano. 'No nation could ever want something like this, not even someone like Russia.'

'But you knew the guy!' Romano tries again. 'You knew him before he did all this! You worked with him, he was your damn boss! You really had no idea what he was planning-?'

'I GET IT, ALRIGHT?' I scream. I've had enough. I've had enough of _everything._ 'I KNOW IT'S ALL MY BLOODY FAULT. I _KNOW._ I WAS REMINDED EVERY SINGLE DAY BY THE MASTER HIMSELF, SO DON'T YOU DARE- DON'T YOU _DARE-_ ISSINUATE THAT I WANTED ANY OF THIS. YOU THINK IT WAS ALL SUNSHINE AND RAINBOWS UP THERE? YOU THINK I WAS JUST RELAXING AS HE DEMOLISHED THE WORLD? I WAS IN HIS GRASP. I WAS THE EASIEST, MOST IMMEDIATE THING FOR HIM TO DESTROY.'

'Ve? What's happening?' Italy asks worriedly, bounding into the room after Germany with France and Jack following behind.

Spain, Romano and Germany are frozen in shock and France looks kind of solemn. Italy looks thoroughly confused and Jack appears concerned for me. But I've finally done it, haven't I? Admitted to my crimes verbally for everyone to hear, and as a rant no less. I'm really trying for the honesty thing for the first time in my life. I see why it's so unappealing.

Isn't it meant to feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders when you confess your sins? Aren't you meant to feel better for it? Because I don't. Standing here with the others all watching me, I feel worse than ever.

'Well, fellas...' Jack says quietly. 'We should, uh, probably be heading off soon if we wanna catch that ride.'

Germany quickly regains his composure. 'Ja, you're right. Come on, everyone, we should go...'

I grasp the strap of my rucksack tightly and storm out the room before the others have even moved.

* * *

It's completely dark and the city is silent. The seven of us travel in an orderly fashion: France leading the way as he knows his capital city best, Spain next, Romano after him, then Jack, then me, then Italy with Germany bringing up the rear.

'Hey, England?' Italy asks rather timidly. His voice is so quiet that I'm almost certain I'm the only one who can actually hear him.

'Yes, Italy?'

'You were with the bad man, weren't you? The Master?'

I keep my eyes fixed firmly on the ground in front of me. 'Yes.'

'Locked up?'

'Yes.'

'Was he doing bad things to you?'

I don't answer this time. I just keep walking.

We pass by an empty square and walk along five or six streets, ducking into a few alleys here and there. There aren't any Toclafane or humans in sight, but we spot a number of wild dogs patrolling the streets in search of food.

'Do we have any weapons?' Jack asks after a few more minutes.

'Germany has a gun,' France replies.

'That's not enough,' Romano mutters.

'It won't matter anyway,' I tell them. 'Guns don't work on Toclafane. Nothing does.'

'That's not true!' Italy says excitedly. 'There was that one that got hit by lightning in Africa! Remember, fratello? We heard about it last week.'

'I'm sure it was just a rumour,' Germany says. 'I mean, what are the odds of-?'

'It's true, potato bastard!' Romano says. 'The lightning strike brought one of them down!'

'And what happened to it?' Jack asks.

'How the hell should we know? It happened in _Africa.'_

'Shh!' Spain says suddenly. 'Can you hear that?'

We all stop walking and stay quiet for a moment, listening out for whatever Spain heard. After a few seconds, a dreadful voice resonates through the air.

**'Bad countries, breaking rules. You're not meant to be out at night time.'**

Italy shrieks and Germany bellows, 'RUN!'

'Halt!' shouts a man's voice from behind us and I look back quickly to see a line of soldiers, all with their guns pointed at us. So not only are the Toclafane hear but the are armed human enemies too. The Master must have sent them, and the only reason I can think for him doing this is because he truly has figured out that I came hear to find the other countries.

There's a gunshot and Jack grunts before toppling over. 'Jack!' I shout, throwing myself down next to him but someone is already grabbing my arms and pulling me away from the corpse of my friend.

'It's too late, we 'ave to go-'

'No, he comes back! He doesn't die!' I yell. 'We can't leave him!'

'Angleterre, come on!'

We scatter pretty quickly. I have no idea where the other four run off to, but I find myself being dragged by France to the left as the bullets rain down of the walls of buildings and long forgotten cars all around us.

'We need to find some place to hide,' France says, glancing around frantically at the deserted road we're currently racing down. 'We 'ave locations planned out where we can rendezvous with the others.'

'Jack doesn't stay dead,' I say, twisting my head around to look back where we came from. I can hear the yells of the soldiers and the excited giggling from the Toclafane but so far no one has shown up in my line of vision. 'He comes back to life. We have to go back for him.'

'What are you talking about?' France demands. ''E's just a 'uman. 'Ow could 'e possibly come back to life-?'

'It's complicated!' I reply frustratedly. 'What matters is that they'll capture him!'

'Angleterre, they'll already 'ave 'im by now. There's nothing we can do.'

'What the hell do you know, frog?' I snarl. 'Jack's the one who helped get me out of that hellhole! I won't let them drag him back there!'

I make a move to retrace my steps in an effort to go back for Jack but France grabs my arm and pulls me to the side of one of the discarded cars. He pushes me down low and ducks down himself, peering through one of the car windows up at a Toclafane that is now traveling along the street, trying to spot any of the fugitives.

**'Come out to play, little countries,'** it chuckles.

My heart is hammering wildly in panic. Jack has been taken and we could get caught at any moment. And then what? I'll get taken back to the _Valiant_ and tortured even more than before as punishment. But what will the Master do to the other countries? Will he take them back with us? Will he torture them as well?

France taps me on the shoulder and motions with his other hand that we should stay low and that I should follow him. Staying bent down, we slowly make our way around the car and hide behind the one next to it. I realise France is trying to reach an entrance to an alley a few feet away from us without the Toclafane noticing.

Then I hear it- the voice of my nightmares.

'Come on out, England,' the Master says. 'I know you're here.'

He's here, on the street with a bunch of soldiers. He can't see me but he knows I'm nearby. He's actually come personally for me. He's going to find me and the others.

I'm frozen in fear. Up until now, the Master hasn't truly terrified me. There's been too much hatred, and not enough room for fear. I know what he's capable of but I've tried to stand defiant to him. But now, I am truly afraid of him. Right now, I want to run, to get as far away from him as possible.

I can't actually physically move until France practically drags me towards the alleyway. I can feel myself shaking, but I no longer care about what the other nation might think. I've long since given up caring about any of that. All I am conscious of is the scars on my body tingling in reaction to the appearance of the man who put them there.

'Angleterre...!' France whispers frantically.

'You're somewhere around, aren't you?' the Master calls. 'Not bad, I must say. Your escape was impressive. You couldn't take the TARDIS because of the paradox machine, but that didn't stop you and our dear friend Jack, did it? No, you found a vortex manipulator. You went to London, you got caught up in the carnage, and then you escaped and came here. You haven't exactly made it very far, but still, not bad indeed.'

'Sil vous plais, Angleterre,' France tries again, tugging on my arm.

'Nice of the other nations to take you in, wasn't it?' the Master's voice rings out. 'I was under the impression that they didn't like you, but that apparently didn't stop them.'

His voice is closer now. The primeval instincts inside me are telling me to run, which works in France's favour as I come out my fearful daze slightly and allow myself to get pulled along without restraint.

'Shame America wasn't here to greet you, hmm?' the Master continues. 'Still, if he was, I'd have quite the little collection of nations to play with.'

At the mention of America, I finally snap out of shock for real and willingly creep over to the alleyway with France. That's why I escaped in the first place- to find America. If I get captured now, then what's it all been for?

'Come on,' France says in a low, quiet voice. He's still trying to pull me away, although I'm ready to come now. I don't need help. 'We need to find the others before they do.'

'France.' I halt, thinking things through quickly. He stops too and stares at me. 'The Toclafane found me in London. I was in a refugee camp. The humans had been allowed to survive there. The Toclafane let them. But when I arrived, there was a massacre. The Toclafane attacked those people because they wanted to capture me, all on the Master's orders. The Master wants me back on the _Valiant_.'

'Angleterre...'

'They're here because of me. You know that.'

'They're here because they realised that we're trying to escape the city,' France says firmly.

'The Master,' I argue, 'hardly ever leaves the _Valiant_. The only time so far in which he's deserted his base was to oversee how the search for America was going. He never sets foot on Earth, France. But he's here, in the flesh. Because of me.'

'So, what are you trying to say?'

'I'm trying to say that I'm a magnet for disaster,' I say heavily. 'I'm a danger to everyone. The Master's destroying everything in his way to get to me. This happened in London. He'll kill you and the others if it will mean capturing me.'

'But why? Why does 'e want you so badly-?'

'Come on!' I hiss. I can see the shadow of a Toclafane passing nearby and establish that they're in the alley. We have to get out of here.

* * *

The worst part is the silence.

At least when I hear the Toclafane or the guards, I know where they are. When I can't hear anything at all, who knows where they might be?

France still doesn't seem to understand what I'm trying to say. Bloody frog. I wish he'd get it. He'll die if he sticks with me. People always do. Perhaps it's the fact that I'm worrying about his life that's confusing him. We don't ever openly show concern for each other. I must be really weirding him out.

We race through the streets as far as we can, taking the long route around to where France reckons we can meet up with the others. We can hear the Toclafane leering and the humans shouting in the distance. Not at any point do we catch sight of the other nations.

'We'll find them,' France says, but he sounds uncertain. I'm slightly impressed (not that I'll let him know) with the amount of optimism he maintains. But he knows how hopeless this is in reality.

'I shouldn't come,' I insist as we crouch behind some bins at one point to catch our breath.

'Nonsense,' France says with an air of finality. 'You really do say some stupid things, Angleterre. Perhaps Amérique was rubbing off on you.'

'You should go south with the others, if you find them,' I say. 'I'll go east and look for America.'

'By your own logic, that's a bad idea,' France points out. 'You said you shouldn't be around others. And I know you would never willingly put Amérique in danger.'

'That's different,' I argue. 'He's with Martha. And she's the key to all of this.'

France is quiet for a few seconds. 'So she really could end this?'

I nod. 'The Doctor gave her a mission. Not to kill the Master. He would never want that. But Martha is going to succeed. She'll make the world right again.'

'Who is she?'

'A friend.'

'And who is the Doctor to you?'

I think for a second. 'An old friend.'

We get to our feet and continue running.

* * *

We practically collide with Romano.

The elder Italian twin is in hysterics and can't seem to get through a single sentence without at least one obscenity. He's been running practically the entire time without any rests, and has recently been separated from Spain.

'Damn Toclafane!' he hisses. 'Came right out in front of us. We had to split up.'

'Calm down,' I instruct.

'We'll find 'im and the others,' France adds.

'Those things are _everywhere!'_ Romano says in a screeched, high pitched whisper. 'We're screwed!'

France grabs his shoulders like he did with me. 'Romano, listen. You need to stay calm.'

'We shouldn't have left,' the Italian curses. 'This was such a big mistake...'

'Get down!' I yelp frantically as a Toclafane swerves into sight, seconds away from spotting us. The three of us leap under the archway of a little alley between two houses, leading the the gardens behind. Once we've reached the grassy area, we climb over the fence and force our way through a wooded section filled with thorn bushes behind the gardens to reach another street on the opposite side. This one has small warehouses at the end of the street; somewhere for us to hide.

'This was the arranged spot in an emergency,' France says. 'If the others 'ave gotten away, they should be heading for 'ere like us.'

'What about Jack?' I ask. I'm concerned with what we're going to do about my friend, and fearful that the others are going to decide he's expendable.

'He's dead,' Romano says in a rather harsh tone.

'Don't,' France whispers to me as I open my mouth to argue.

'You lot can all reunite and figure out some stupid way to kill the Master- which, by the way, won't work- but I won't come,' I say forcefully. 'I'm going back for Jack, and we're going to find Martha and America.'

A loud cry of 'FOUND THEM!' from one of the men sends us scuttling into the shadows of of of the warehouses. I peer around the corner to spot a group of soldiers heading our way, and behind them, following along at a calm walking pace is the Master himself.

'Long time no see, England,' he calls. 'Didn't you miss me?'

'Go,' I hiss at the others, motioning that the three of us should run round the side of the warehouse to avoid getting caught.

But we've thrown ourselves into a trap. The entire area of the wasteland the clutter of warehouses is situated on is surrounded by a wall, topped with a barbed wire fence, the only opening to the compound being the opening we came through, the part now completely swarming with soldiers and Toclafane. There's no way we can climb that wall.

There's no escape.

France spots Germany and Italy crouching behind a warehouse opposite us, and Romano lets out a relieved sigh when he spots Spain with them. We're all hiding behind our respective warehouses, with only a road sized pathway of gravel between us. But the path is in clear sight of the soldiers, so there's no way we're walking over to each other. Germany has to cover Italy's mouth to stop him screaming excitedly at the sight of his brother, and Spain is grinning from ear to ear. Don't they realise we're all going to get caught?

'I know you're all there,' the Master calls out, and I shiver. 'Aren't you all a bit too old for hide and seek?'

Romano is shaking even more violently than I am. The Master's voice is fairly distant; I'd say he's around fifty feet from us, and for some reason the soldiers haven't come to drag us out from our hiding places. Why not? They know exactly where we are.

I suppose it's because the Master wants to place his little game his way. He doesn't want to make it too easy.

'Honestly. You should all know it's hopeless. It was never going to work. Might as well give up.'

'What do we do?' France whispers, and I realise that he's addressing me, despite the fact that I haven't got a damn idea what could possibly be done.

This can't be it. There's no way I can just get caught here. There's too much I need to do. Too many chances, too many dreams. I refuse to fall willingly into the nightmares once more.

'Come out, come out, wherever you are,' the Master sings, slowly walking forward and naming a different one of us with each step. 'Germany.' The tall nation's eyebrows knit together in a frown. 'Italy.' The auburn haired country whimpers. 'Romano.' His twin shudders. 'Spain.' The brunette bites his lip. 'France.' The blonde stiffens.

The Master stops. 'And you... England.'

_Tap tap tap tap._ The memories of the drumming come flooding back.

He's still quite far away. I should be able to whisper loud enough for Spain, Germany and Italy to hear, but not for the Master, the soldiers or the Toclafane.

Spain seems to be thinking the same as me. 'What now?' he says frantically.

As he finishes his sentence, Romano's nerves fail him and he panics. Quick as a flash, he bolts out of the hiding place he's sharing with France and I and throws himself towards the other three. There's no fire. The soldiers and the Toclafane have a clear shot, but none of them take aim. As Romano reaches Spain and the others, I risk peering round the edge of the building I see the soldiers with their guns pointed but not being used. And the Master still stands there, smiling.

I shiver and lean further back, turning my head slightly to see if France is having the same idea as Romano. But no, the other blonde doesn't seem to be planning on bolting any time soon.

'Which one was that? Italy or Romano? It's impossible to tell the difference at this time of night,' the Master says, amused. 'Any other takers?'

No one moves.

The Master continues his walk, heading closer, slowly and carefully. 'I'm going to give you to the count of ten to come out. I could have you dragged out, but where's the fun in that? No, I want you all to surrender. If you come out before I get to ten, the consequences for this little scene won't be too severe. Whereas after ten...' He gives his crooked smile. 'Well, you don't want to know. Let's just say, I don't need you. Not anymore. Your countries have been completely defeated. You're expendable. But you can keep your lives if you reveal yourselves. If you stay intact, that is. You will be punished, naturally.'

What frightens me the most now is the looks on the faces of the other nations opposite me. I can see it, plain as day.

They're considering the Master's options.

'You know what? You can come with me, back to the Valiant,' the Master continues. 'How about that? You can all get away from this wasteland your planet has become. I promise I'll be merciful.'

What would the Doctor do? How would he get us all out of this situation?

'Ten,' the Master says.

'There's no way we can escape. We're surrounded,' I hear Germany murmur.

'We'll figure it out!' I hiss, hoping he can hear me.

'How the hell can we? There's no time!' Romano snarls.

'He'll let us live if we go out there now,' Spain adds.

'I don't like this!' Italy whimpers.

'Nine.'

The only reason the Master is here is because of me. The only reason these other countries are in this situation is because of me. I did this.

'Eight.'

'He won't show you mercy,' I growl. 'He makes empty promises.'

'They sound pretty damn good to me!' Romano says. 'It's gotta be better up there!'

'Seven.'

'Better? _Better?'_ I spit. 'You'll be right next to _him_.'

'Rather that than this place!'

'You are _alive_ down here. More than that- you actually feel alive! You have hope! You have a reason to keep going! You have the resistance and your friends! And above all, you're not _broken_ yet.'I lift up my sleeves, no longer self conscious. They have to see if I want them to understand. They have to know what will happen to them. It's dark and they're a few feet away but I know that they can see all the cuts, all the bruises, completely covering my skin.

'Six.'

'He'll break you,' I continue. 'He'll hurt you. He'll lock you away and only come in to bring more destruction. He'll destroy who you are and take away those you love and make you _watch,_ until there's nothing left of you, and then he'll _kill_ you.'

I'm shaking badly, though whether it's because of rage, fear of distress, I have no idea. They're looking back at me now, and their faces are stricken. They're finally getting it. Good. I take my eyes off Germany, Italy, Spain and Romano and turn to see what opinion France is reaching. But he's just staring at my scars. And he _knows._ He understands it better than they do.

'Five. You know that there's a third option, don't you, England?'

I hold my breath, trying to stop the shuddering coursing through my body.

'We both know that you're the reason I'm here. You could even say that you got the others into this mess. That this is your fault.'

_Yeah, no kidding. Already established that, you monster._

'Just give up already,' the Master sighs. 'The escape was impressive, but it's time to come home.'

I almost gag when he refers to the _Valiant_ as home and wrap my arms around my body, pressing myself against the wall of the building. What's he trying to say? That if I give myself up, he'll let the others go? Does he honestly think I'll believe him? I know he's a ruthless liar.

'Four,' the Master says silkily. 'I'm growing tired of this little game of yours, England. Time to come out of the shadows. If you're not out by one, the other nations will be gunned down immediately. Simple.'

A wave of terror spreads all over me. I feel France go rigid beside me, and I can't even bring myself to look at the other countries. But that settles it. He's not one to keep to his word, but I know that if I do this, at least there's a chance that he might spare them.

I push myself away from the wall and step out towards the street. Before I get there, France grabs my arm and spins me around. Right here, right now, our entire history is forgotten. France cares. I care. Neither of us want this, but I know that it has to be this way.

'Don't,' he says.

'Suicidal now, frog?' I say weakly, trying for the barest hinting of a smile and failing miserably. 'If I don't, you're all dead.'

'Three.'

'You said we could try and figure out a way,' he reminds me.

'No, the others are right. We're out of time. This is the only way.'

'Two.'

'Angleterre- 'e'll take you back up there- 'e'll break you-'

'I know,' I whisper. 'Be seeing you around, frog.'

'One-'

I wrench myself free of his grip and step out into the street.

The Master claps his hands excitedly and looks triumphant. 'Good, England! Knew you'd come round eventually!'

The soldiers' guns are all pointed straight at me and the Toclafane and bobbing up and down delightedly.

'Just let it finish,' I say tiredly. 'Please, just let it end here.'

'Are you ready to come home?' he asks, smiling.

'I...' My eyes glance to the left, to where France is watching me in shock, still out of view from the Master but easy enough for me to see. 'I'm ready,' I say.

The Master takes another few steps forwards. 'Good. Glad we settled this. Shall we go, then?'

'Y-'

France practically throws himself out from cover and quickly puts himself at my side, glaring ahead at the Master.

'What are you doing?' I hiss.

'You'll just go back to it!' he replies, equally forceful. 'Back to all the bad things you told us about. 'Ow can you accept that?'

'I have no choice.'

'Oh, are you joining us?' the Master asks. 'Want to come along?'

'No, he's not!' I snap.

More surprises. Spain steps out as well, clearly not wanting to see one of his best friends get taken by the Master, and he's quickly followed by Germany. The Italian twins scuttle after them.

Great. What the hell do they think they're doing?

'Don't do this,' I growl at all of them. 'Get out of here. You have the chance.'

'No, we don't,' Spain says.

'You were right,' Germany admits calmly. 'He goes back on his word. He won't let any of us get away with this.'

'He's just a lying bastard,' Romano adds.

'No one should be alone,' Italy says in as brave a voice as he can muster.

'We should stand together for this,' France finishes. 'All of us.'

They've lost it. They're crazier than me. And yet, at the same time... I'm touched. It's all about to end here but none of us alone. Like Italy said, none of us should be.

The Master seems entertained by the whole affair, to say the least. 'How very sweet. You're popular tonight, England.'

The others shuffle closer to me. We're bunched together, staying beside each other. I don't know what to think now. My head says this is bad. Some profound part of my soul says this is good. Would the Doctor accept it? A spell of humanity for the cost of lives? He'd love them for it. Each and every one of them. He'd also find a way to save the day too, knowing him.

The Master laughs. 'How admirable! It's a shame I'm going to have to break up the little party. I'm fine you lot staying here, but _you_ have to come, England. As for you five... well, when I get bored, I'll pay you a visit. Still, I feel it's only fitting that I should part with a gift, so...' He turns to look at one of the nearby soldiers, clearly a commander.

'Kill Spain,' he says.

Before any of us have the chance to react, a loud gunshot blasts through the air and Spain's body slumps to the floor beside us.

All I can do is let out a little gasp. Germany shouts 'NEIN!', but it's too late. France cries out in shock and Italy and Romano scream.

When I look down, I can see it's too late. No chance of him having survived it. The bullet wound is on his forehead. He lies spiraled on his back, his eyes unseeing and one final surprised expression plastered on his face.

Romano throws himself over Spain's body, shrieking and shrieking in Italian. The others all cluster around Spain too. Italy is sobbing hysterically and Germany is holding onto him. France is clutching his head with shaking hands. He looks like he's about to have a panic attack.

I try to keep my voice even. 'Why did you...?'

'Kill Spain? Well, I was tossing a few coins earlier to narrow my list of candidates down,' the Master says. 'The final round was heads for Germany, tails for Spain, and, well...'

With a big shudder, I wrap my arms around my stomach. I feel so sick, so horrified and repulsed, I'm afraid the world is tearing around me.

'Did you a favour, when you think about it,' the Master said. 'I could have picked one of the others instead. I thought you disliked Spain the most. Or was it France? I can't remember. Do you even actually dislike them anymore? Oh well. It's done now anyway.'

'You m-monster...'

'Come on, England, you're stronger than that,' the Master chastises me. 'As much as I want you to break, I want it to be over something a little more personal. Don't break over one of your old nemeses dying, for crying out loud...'

I take a step forwards. 'How... how dare you? How _could_ you?'

'Maybe they'll understand now. They probably didn't before, not really. I bet you warned them about breaking a spirit. About taking away what matters most. Maybe they'll finally get it.' The Master's eyes sweep over the other nations, and his gaze lingers on Romano longer than the others. 'Oh yes,' he says. 'It will make sense to them now.'

He motions at me to come forwards, to leave the others. My feet work like clockwork. He's not tapping anything right now but I can hear those drums of his in my head. Maybe he's put them in there, permanently trapped like they are inside his head.

Once again, someone grabs my arm, and once again it's France. But there's no force behind it. No emphasis. Just a small grip. Not enough to keep me here. But enough to beg.

The Master's wrong. I didn't hate Spain. I haven't done for a long time. Same with France. And I didn't even realise it 'til recently. 'Til the world came to an end. I don't hate any of the nations, not anymore. I owe it to them to care after all this. Spain's dead because of me. The others are dead because of me. France will be too, if he doesn't let go.

'Don't,' he says again, just like he did before I stepped out into the street.

With no force of my own either, I shake him off and walk towards the Master.

As I reach him, he puts his hands on my shoulders. I struggle not to shudder at the touch. He's still smiling. 'Good to see you again, England. The plane's waiting for us not far away. Jack's already on board. I would imagine he has been revived by now.'

The guards step forward to restrain me but the Master waves them off and puts an arm around my shoulders, steering me himself. We're leaving now, and I've gone numb. I can't resist. I can't do anything except glance back briefly to see the other nations still there, crowded around the body but all of them watching me leave.

'I'm sorry,' I whisper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you fairly soon, hopefully, and thanks for reading. And sorry. Obviously.
> 
> Remember to review!


	8. Echo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: physical/psychological torture, despair, mentions of several characters dying, and a rather cruel cliffhanger.
> 
> We good? Excellent. Allons-y!
> 
> (PS. the song is Echo by Jason Walker. It fitted in quite nicely.)

_Hello, hello_  
_Anybody out there? Cause I don't hear a sound_  
 _Alone, alone_  
 _I don't really know where the world is but I miss it now_

This wasn't meant to happen.

None of it.

I'm back now. Back on the _Valiant_ , back in my cell. Back in hell.

I'm not sure how long I'm left here. The weird thing is, the Master leaves me alone. Completely alone. No torture, no visiting of any kind. I'm left in my cell, wondering what's happened. The door never opens. No one comes in- not Tish, not the guards. The only ways I even know that time is passing is the light from the outside world traveling through my barred window and the slot at the bottom of my cell door opening every few hours for a plate of food to be pushed through.

Aside from that, the air grows colder. Not that it was ever warm to begin with, as we're so high up and my window is barred, but I can tell that winter has arrived, which means that I've definitely been locked in here for a few months, as it was the summer when I escaped to Earth with Jack.

In addition, the Master's left an imprint on my mind. There's silence, save for the wind. I know that. I know that there are no other sounds. But I can swear that sometimes, in the middle of the night, when I'm slipping to and from consciousness, I hear the drumming.

Occasionally, I try using my voice. I say my name a few times. My attempts are few and far between. There's no use in talking, and the echoes sometimes trick me into thinking that I'm not alone. I shouldn't give myself false hope, so eventually I stop trying altogether.

I still say the words inside my head, though. _My name is England. Or Arthur Kirkland. I am the last surviving nation of the United Kingdom. I am one of the last nations altogether._ It becomes a ritual for me to mentally chant. _My name is England._ I can't afford to lose my mind completely. _My name is England._ I'll loose who I am if I do. _My name..._

_I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name_  
_Like a fool at the top of my lungs_  
 _Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright_  
 _But it's never enough_

_Cause my echo, echo_  
_Is the only voice coming back_  
_Shadow, shadow_  
_Is the only friend that I have_

I hate this. I mean, it's better than the torture, but in a way it's a torture of its own. I don't know what the Master might be destroying who he might be killing while I'm trapped in here.

All I have is this dark, horrible room with all the bad memories. And my shadow. And the sky. I have the sky, through my barred window. But it's only ever white or back. We're in the clouds most of the time, so I never see anything else. I don't ever see the Toclafane going past my window which is a blessing. The sky is lonely and silent, just like me.

I'm even more isolated than before.

I never even got to see the Doctor when I came back.

* * *

I get the shock of my life when the door opens.

After months of not seeing a single soul, I'm faced with the sight of a worn out Francine and Latisha Jones. There are guards behind the two women but they both smile when they see me.

'Arthur,' Tish says. 'How are you?'

This is going to be interesting. I haven't used my voice in a very long time, as there's been no need to. I haven't even had any magical friends to talk to in my months of isolation and although I've missed them, I wouldn't want them to see me like this. When at first I try to speak, all that comes out is a dry, rasping sound. I try again and manage it this time. 'I've been better. I'm sure we all have. Is everyone alright?'

Francine nods. 'We're all fine.'

'Good,' I croak. 'So, is there a reason for this visit?'

Tish winces. 'The Master wants to see you. But first he requested we clean you up.'

Finally, a reasonable demand. I'm sure I must look appalling.

* * *

'Hi, Iggy!'

The words send a cold tremor of fury straight through my body. I stand up as tall as I can and glare at the Master as I am lead into the main room. 'Don't call me that.'

'America did, didn't he?' The Master leads his wife up to greet me again. She has a rather prominent black eye on her pale skin today, obviously having been caused fairly recently. She still gives that weak, dazed smile she always wore before, though she flinches a little at the Master's touch on her arm.

I glance around the room. The Jones family are clearly not going to be stationed here- they must be working somewhere else on the _Valiant_ today. Jack's probably confined in a cell right now. As far as I can see, the only people in here are myself, the Master, Lucy, the guards at the doors and the Doctor, who crouches under a little make-shift tent, looking out tiredly. His eyes brighten a little when he catches sight of me.

I haven't seen him in so long. I feel crushed at the thought of him still so withered and helpless.

But I want to know something. I was led by the cell marked _**Broken**_ on my way here, and it was empty.

'Where are they?' I ask.

'Hmm?'

'China and Russia. Where are they?'

'Oh, them,' the Master says, he and Lucy taking a seat at the table, ready for lunch. 'They're gone now.'

I freeze. 'What?'

The Master says this next part so matter-of-factly, he could simply be talking about the weather. 'I was bored.' He leans over and grabs a chicken sandwich, offering some crisps to Lucy.

'What do you mean...?' I say, feeling a terrible sense of dread inside.

The Master rolls his eyes and takes a few bites out of his food, eyes fixed on his plate. 'I was bored so I got rid of them.'

I feel my legs go weak from shock and I almost stagger. 'You... you...'

The Master takes a sip of orange juice from a straw like he is a child. 'Yeah. It's a lot of fun breaking things, but after a while you realise that there's just no point to them anymore. Russia's existence was just... meaningless after I disposed of Ukraine and Belarus, you know? His spirit had just sort of... shattered. I woke up yesterday and saw no point in keeping him anymore. China kind of shut down when Japan burned, so I got rid of him too. I mean, what's the point in keeping broken toys?'

I can't say anything. I stand here, my mind blank.

'I still have other nations imprisoned down on the Earth. Some of them aren't broken yet,' the Master continues. 'They're trapped in their little prisons, still believing there's hope. And I get rid of the ones who are broken. Want to hear about some more?'

I numbly stare at him.

'Let's see...' The Master leans back in his chair, popping some grapes into his mouth. 'After I got rid of Spain, that broke Romano, as expected. So I got rid of Romano, and that broke Italy. I got rid of Italy, and that broke Germany, so then I got rid of him. France was sort of broken for a while, ever since that other one died... Canada or whatever, and he gave up after I disposed of the others, so I got rid of him eventually.'

'They're... they're all...'

'Dead? Yep,' the Master confirms, smiling cheerfully.

I...

I...

My body is shaking. Inside me, the scream is beginning. But I can't let it happen.

_No, no, please no..._

_… Why?_

_Please..._

_They're... they're g-gone..._

_All of them..._

'Have you broken, England?' the Master asks very quietly, his face serious.

_My ice is shattering-_

I can't let him see. I can't cry, I can't break. If I break, I lose, and then I die. Alive, I'm still useful. Alive, the Master doesn't win.

_But he's killed my family, my friends, my fellow nations-_

_All is lost-_

_No._

All is not lost, because I lock eyes with the Doctor, and he hasn't given up, I can tell.

All is not lost, because Martha is still down there, ready to help save us all.

All is not lost because they still haven't found _him._

So I don't let my grief pour out through tears. I let in gush out another way. I concentrate as hard as I can, with every bit of strength, both physical and magic that I might still possess, and then I launch forwards and punch the Master as hard as I possibly can in the face.

And holy shit, does he go tumbling backwards.

'Harry!' Lucy shrieks, rising from her chair as her husband slams into the floor. She is at his side in an instant, attempting to nurse the huge dark red mark on his cheek. He blinks in surprise before his eyes land on me and they narrow. He pushes Lucy out the way quite roughly and rises to his feet, hand resting on the newly forming bruise. I'm watching him so closely that I don't notice the guards quickly approaching me. They take a hold of me and lock my arm behind my back, pushing me so I am leaning forwards, unable to struggle. But I'm not going to. I've done my damage, and I'm satisfied by that look in the Master's eyes. He knows that he's failed to break me. He knows.

'My my, England,' he murmurs. 'For someone who's been locked away and weakened, you sure do continue to maintain a large amount of strength.'

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials a number, looking extremely calm. '… Yes, it's me. I would like you to go forth with Operation 6BX. Immediately.'

I glance at the Doctor, wondering what he might have thought of my outburst. He looks slightly glad, probably because I didn't break and so therefore the Master can't kill me. But there's a touch of apprehension too. Like the time when he knew that Japan's death was inevitable, he knows exactly what the Master's going to do to me.

But is this bastard going to hurt me directly? What if he decides to punish me by killing someone I care about? Then again, that list is getting shorter and shorter- it was never a big one to begin with. I'm not entirely sure about how I used to feel about the frog- no, France- and the others, considering the history I have with all those countries, but now I know I care. Very much. They shouldn't have died.

Russia, China, France, Spain, Romano, Italy and Germany. All the countries the Master has just executed over the last few days. They shouldn't have died. I wish they and all the other slaughtered countries were all still alive. Because at the end of the day, our histories no longer matter. In this new world, we're all on the same side; we have one true enemy, and that is the monster who is about to punish me.

'Nothing eloquent and creative today, England,' the Master says in that soft voice he's still using, approaching me slowly with an unreadable expression. 'No mind games. Just a simple punishment for what happens when you step out of line. A little enforcement of pain.'

Well, I'm fine with that. He'll find that I'm very tolerant of pain.

He catches my expression and breathes out a small laugh. 'Oh, you think you'll deal with it? This isn't some simple cut or bruise. No, suffering will always be a key element with my punishments. You'll do well to remember that.'

And all of a sudden I feel something erupt inside my chest as if my body has imploded. I grunt in pain, barely containing a screech of agony, and the guards release me, knowing that I won't do anything. I fall forwards to my knees, immediately retching up blood. I've never felt physical pain of this magnitude- the closest I've come must be either the Blitz or the Great Fire of London in 1666. My shaking hands come up to clutch my chest. I look down to see my clothes drenched in crimson liquid.

The Master leans and reaches out to hold my chin in his hand, making me face him directly in the eyes. His face is still deadly serious. 'You know, I never get tired of watching the face of a nation as I destroy one of their major cities or a large section of their land. Even the strongest spirits can be broken eventually.'

'Y... y-you...'

'You didn't really need Oxfordshire anymore, anyway,' the Master says. 'Most of your counties are in ruins. Everywhere on Earth is ruined. Still, there were roughly one hundred thousand refugees there. All gone.'

And then he smiles and my blood runs cold.

So I just got one hundred thousand innocent humans killed because I struck him? Once again I am responsible for the misfortune of others...

And like when I found out about the deaths of the other countries, I feel the tears threatening to spill.

_Keep them in, don't let the Master win..._

'Go on, England. Cry your heart out,' the Master says.

I do nothing.

'My, you're a tough nut to crack,' he continues, actual surprise in his eyes. 'Were you always this stubborn? That can't be right. You've cried during wars before. You've given into despair in the past. You must have. So why don't you now?'

It might be the loss of blood, but I'm starting to feel a little light headed. I sway a little, glad that I'm on my knees and not my feet. I'd have fallen over by now if I were.

'Come on. No war can compare to what's happened to the world right now,' the Master muses. 'This should be the worst thing that's ever happened to you, England. Why won't you break?'

I do something that shocks even myself. I look him straight in the eye and smile defiantly.

His hand flies down to my throat in an instant, breaking off my supply of air. I twist my head, trying to escape his grip.

'Tell me why you won't break,' the Master hisses.

'Because you _can't_ break me. You will never be able to,' I choke.

His fingers tighten. My vision blurs alarmingly-

'Stop it,' I hear a voice gasp, and the grip on my throat loosens slightly. 'Don't do this, Master.'

It's the Doctor. He's crawled out from his little tent and his wrinkled old hand is trying to pull the Master's own hand away from my throat. After a few seconds, the Master's fingers retreat from my skin.

'No, you're right,' he murmurs. 'There's no point killing England now. I have to break him first. That's the game.'

* * *

_Listen, listen_  
_I would take a whisper if that's all you had to give_  
 _But it isn't, is it?_  
 _You could come and save me and try to chase the crazy right out of my head_

I'm losing bits and pieces of myself inside this cell. The isolation was bad, but it was far more preferable to the old arrangement that the Master has reinstated, the one where he visits frequently. The months of being shut away gave a chance for my cuts to seal and my bruises to fade, but now there are new ones once again, scattered in ugly blotches over my skin. What's more, it's always accompanied with that wretched sound. I think he wants me to feel it too- what it's like to hear the constant drumming.

But I've always been insane, according to the other nations. Even America. He would often laugh and joke about my invisible friends. Not in a cruel way. He was never cruel. He always wanted to be a hero. I wonder if he's down there right now, saving people from the Toclafane, along with Martha. Perhaps he's planning on saving me, like France said he was. But that means coming up here, and I don't want him within the Master's grasp. And if that means never seeing him again... then so be it. I don't want this for America. Not any of it. He deserves the freedom he's always loved.

Tish has taken to bringing me my food again, and I finally get round to asking her if she knows the date. She tells me that it's the nineteenth of January. It's been eight months since the apocalypse begun. Almost a year now.

One by one, I cross more nations off my list as I hear the Master boast about each one he takes care of. There's so many now. I'm sure he must be running out of countries to kill. One day, I hear news that he's taken care of Austria and Hungary. And afterwards, I heard him say, 'So many down, just two to go.'

I'm obviously one of the two countries left. He needs to break me before he can execute me. And the other country must be... _him._

_Please, please let him be alright. He's one of the last things that fuels my hope. Without the knowledge that he's still alive and free, my ice could shatter._

He hasn't found America. America is still alive, and safe from the Master's clutches. He's the only other one left. It's just him and I. It's just... just us... all alone...

I curl up in my cell and bite my knuckles to keep from screaming.

_I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name_  
_Like a fool at the top of my lungs_  
 _Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright_  
 _But it's never enough_

_Cause my echo, echo_  
_Is the only voice coming back_  
_Shadow, shadow_  
_Is the only friend that I have_

* * *

I miss my brothers.

That's definitely putting the severity of the situation into perspective, because I'm never usually able to admit stuff like that.

I miss Sealand, and how he often reminded me of a young America (which, admittedly, used to scare me a little, and it was probably why I tried to steer clear of him). But we still shared good moments. I used to read some of my favourite books to him when he was even smaller. I even told him fairy tales of a man in a blue box. He probably never remembered that part.

I miss Wales, and how he was always the nicest. He was the... most accepting. He wasn't jealous like the others were about the fact that my magic was superior to that of the rest of my family. He was the one who would give hugs and put the blanket over me when I was ill.

I miss Ireland, and how the harsh words from his mouth would cease when he'd had a bit to drink. He was always nicer when wasted. I miss his booming laugh at world meetings whenever I'd get annoyed with someone.

I miss Scotland, and how even though he loved to remind me how much he despised me, he was still the one who carried me home from pubs when I was too drunk to walk. I remember when he had the appearance of a teenager and I was a just a small child, he would laugh whenever I told him about my friend, a man in a magic blue box that would chase the monsters away. My first 'imaginary friend', he always dubbed the Doctor. He never knew the Time Lord was real.

None of them ever knew. And if they did, I'd wipe their memories, just like everyone else. I couldn't even tell them.

But they're all dead now. My whole family.

_I don't wanna be an island_  
_I just wanna feel alive and_  
 _Get to see your face again_

_I don't wanna be an island_  
_I just wanna feel alive and_  
_Get to see your face again_

_But 'til then..._

_Just my echo, my shadow  
You're my only friend and..._

* * *

There's a knock at the door.

I frown. No one does that. Not even Tish. When the guards want me, they barge straight in. When it's the Master, he just walks casually strolls in.

Not this time, however. He's wearing quite a smart suit and his hair has been combed back. He stands in the doorway with a big smile.

'I've got a surprise for you. A little late Christmas present, you could say,' the Master says.

'I don't want it,' I reply. He's probably planning on blowing up Big Ben or the London Eye or something- if he hasn't already done it.

'Trust me, it's a nice surprise. God knows you could use one,' he says with an air of false concern.

I scowl. 'Cut the bullshit. This is just another scheme to try and break me-'

'We have a guest,' the Master interrupts me, completely unfazed by my words as if he can't even hear me. 'And I think you have the right to look respectable for the occasion. Tish!'

Tish Jones scurries in after the Master, looking anxious and... fearful. Whatever the Master is planning, Tish must know something about it.

'Take England and get him cleaned up a little. I've got a nice suit ready for him,' the Master instructs her. Maybe give him a haircut too, like the one he got when he left the _Valiant_. And whatever you do, don't spoil the surprise.'

As the Master leaves the cell, two guards enter, clearly to accompany Tish and I out, and to make sure I come quietly. But I've long since learnt that there's no point in running. The TARDIS is probably under much higher security since my little escape with Jack. I'll never find another way off the _Valiant_.

_I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name_  
_Like a fool at the top of my lungs_  
 _Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright_  
 _But it's never enough_

'What's happening?' I ask Tish as I'm pulled to my feet by the guards.

She opens her mouth to reply but one of the guards nudges her threateningly and she quickly looks down, remaining silent.

They take me along a few corridors to the bathroom where Tish is occasionally instructed to clean me up. Before we reach it, however, I'm greeted with the sight of a new prisoner being brought through the big doors that lead to the outside runway. I'm assuming this is the guest I'll be meeting soon enough. They're surrounded by guards and even a few Toclafane are hanging around.

I can see the Master standing off to the side, watching the scene with a smile, and then his eyes meet with mine. He smirks, looking victorious, and I realise what this means.

'No...'

_Cause my echo, echo_ _  
_ _Oh my shadow, shadow_

One of the guards, the one obstructing my view of the prisoner, is thrown aside by the prisoner themselves and I finally get to see them properly.

It's a young man, dressed in black clothes that are still rather prominently covered in dirt and probably blood too. His hair is dirty blonde and on top of the black outfit he still has a tattered bomber jacket.

My heart freezes and the wall in my mind threatens to crack in a mixture of relief, shock and fear.

The prisoner looks up and his gaze meets with mine. Those blue eyes, hidden behind cracked glasses, widen in surprise.

_Hello, hello_ _  
_ _Anybody out there?_

It's America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry.
> 
> (Not really. Well, a little. But probably not as much as I should be. XD)
> 
> Thank you for reading, and remember to review!


	9. Cruelty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter I was writing was so long that I had to split it into two. So yeah. Here's part one. Part two's almost written out completely though, so it should be out for you guys soon.
> 
> Anywho, seeing as a key point from part two (aka the next chap) isn't actually in this one to explain the reasons behind why England does what he does, I feel the need to explain England's actions myself in case it's not clear: Cruel to be kind. Simple as that. The Master destroys the things England cares about, so if you're not something he seemingly cares about, you won't be a target. Sometimes you have to hurt someone you love to keep them safe. Especially when the things you love end up dying.
> 
> Warnings: Some extremely mean words and a crapload of angst to go around. At least, as it's from England's perspective, you as the audience know he's lying.
> 
> Allons-y!

_I'm sorry._

There's a crack in the ice. The ice inside my head. The only thing stopping me from breaking.

I… I have to fix the crack. _But not for me. For you. It's the only way to save you._

He's pushing the guards off him. They let him, because right now he isn't trying to escape. He's trying to get to me. He's getting closer and closer and I want to badly to run to him too and hold onto him and never let go because he's _alive_ and it's just us left and I've missed him _so much-_

But I stand my ground and I think of the crack.

To seal it up, I must become colder.

_(I'm so sorry.)_

'You idiot,' I say softly.

He doesn't stop. It wasn't enough. I must be harsher. I must be cruel to save him.

He reaches me and suddenly his arms are around me and I almost melt at the touch because I never thought I'd see him again and I was so scared that he'd die and it's really him, right here, he's _here-_

_(I'm so, so sorry.)_

With all the willpower I have left in me, I push him away roughly. It's one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

America stares at me in utter shock. I glare back.

'You stupid fool,' I spit. 'You total, bloody idiot.'

'I-Iggy?'

The nickname frightens me. It was his word for me, but now whenever I hear it, I can only picture the Master mockingly calling me it.

I use this fear, and turn it into fury. 'Useless,' I hiss. 'Why did you get captured? What good are you up here? You had one job and you couldn't even manage that.'

I almost convince myself. I sound so _disappointed._

He tries reaching out to me again. I slap his hand away quickly with as much aggression as I can muster. 'Don't touch me.'

America looks so shocked, so _hurt-_

'You failed,' I say. 'You. Failed.'

'England, I… I didn't mean to… I tried-'

'Shut up!' I snap. 'Shut _up!'_

'England?' he tries again, and he sounds so desperate. I force myself to look him in the eyes.

'First you leave me up here and then you _disappear_ \- what good were you?' I say coldly. 'You didn't do anything! You just ran off and hid! You couldn't help anyone! You did _nothing!'_

I might have gone too far. His eyes are shining with what might be tears.

_No. Don't cry. You're strong, America. You're strong. Just hold on. I'm so sorry._

I turn around to face the Master. He stares back at me, and I can see he's almost frowning. He's… confused. This wasn't what he was expecting. Good.

'I want to go,' I say. 'Get him away from me.'

'Sorry?' the Master says, as if he hasn't heard me.

'I don't want to see him. I don't want him anywhere near me.'

I force myself to keep looking at America as I say it. He looks back at me with wide, pained eyes. So full of questions. So upset.

'Oh,' the Master says, and he does sound surprised. 'Right.'

I clench my fist threateningly so he knows I'm not beyond punching him. That's the one thing in this entire situation I'm not lying about.

'Go on, then,' he says, nodding to the guards who were escorting me beforehand. That's right. They were taking me to get cleaned up so I'd look 'respectable' for the new arrival, but I ended up reuniting with America before that.

As I pass by him, I fix him with a hateful glare. The Master is watching, and I know he sees it. Good. Let him see. Let him believe it.

_I'm sorry, America._

_I'm so, so sorry._

* * *

The Master wasn't lying earlier about me needing to dress smartly. When I'm cleaned up ready to get changed, there's a suit waiting for me. I'm sickened by the sight of it, and even more so by the touch. It's one of the Master's suits.

Afterwards, I am lead to the observation deck. It's night time and I find a dinner table for five laid out. The room is illuminated not just by the lamps around the edges but by the candles at the centre of the table. This is supposed to look like a table at a restaurant, like a nice occasion.

The Master, the Doctor, Lucy and America are already here, sitting at the table. Lucy and America are seated next to each other, and the Master is at the head of the table. The Doctor sits opposite Lucy. I'm presumably supposed to sit next to him, opposite America.

The old man is the first to spot me as I enter the room. His sad, aged eyes brighten slightly and the wrinkles around his mouth crease a little into a smile. I feel a little better already. At least the Doctor is here, and he still sees no reason to despise me.

'Ah, England,' the Master greets me. 'You're here. The suit looks good on you. Don't you think so, sweetheart?'

But he isn't talking to Lucy. He's talking to another young woman, a brunette, hovering by his side, looking hesitant. She plasters a smile of false confidence on her face when the Master addresses her and agrees with him immediately. He beckons her to bend down and kiss him on the cheek, which she obliges to. As if she has a choice, anyway. He smiles in satisfaction and waves her away. She leaves the room quickly.

I roll my eyes in disgust as the Master then turns to his wife and says, 'What about you, Lucy, darling? What do you think of England's suit?'

'Very nice,' Lucy says, with that ever present dazed, faraway look. If she's fazed by her husband's antics, she doesn't let it show.

'And you, America?' the Master asks as I take a seat next to the Doctor.

America says nothing, simply staring down at the table. He himself is wearing a suit too. In fact, the Doctor's the only one not dressed for the occasion. The Master is always dressed smartly and Lucy is currently wearing a long purple gown, the colour quite accurately matching one of the bruises I can see protruding from her shoulder to her neck.

There isn't food on our plates yet, but the Master still picks up a knife and begins playing with it in his hand, swinging it back and forth between his fingers. 'See, this is how it works, America,' he says with a smile. 'I ask a question and you answer. Simple. England will tell you.'

'Oh, will I?' I say sarcastically before I catch myself.

The Master's eyes flash dangerously, but the smile stays there. 'Careful now. Perhaps you might also care to educate America on what happens when you speak out of turn.'

'What are you going to do? Burn down London? Haven't you already done that?' I continue. I should really shut up, but the words are tumbling out my mouth before I can stop them. Beside me, the Doctor stiffens, sending me a warning look. The daft old man is still trying to protect me, even now.

The Master sighs. 'Such hostility, so early in the evening. The food hasn't even arrived yet.'

As if on cue, Francine and Tish Jones step into the room, carrying trays of food. They place the plates down in front of us wordlessly and quickly scurry out.

Dinner seems quite basic for such an occasion, but I suppose the whole apocalypse hasn't left much in terms of food production. Although I don't want to eat, I figure I've probably already tested the Master enough this evening, so I pile some steak and a few potatoes onto my plate. To my surprise, America doesn't add much to his plate either. He's always been one for eating as much as he can. But I suppose these last few months have changed him too.

'So,' the Master says cheerfully, biting down on a slab of beef. 'America. How have you been? Enjoying your travels?'

'What?' America says.

'Your journey around the world. Must have been nice. How about Martha? Is she still enjoying it while you're taking a break?'

So Martha still hasn't been captured. That's one good thing. Beside me, I hear the Doctor sigh quietly in relief.

America stares the Master before muttering, 'Oh, bite me.'

I freeze. How I stood up to the Master before was one thing, but America doing it too? I got off lightly. Extremely lightly. But there's only so much the Master will tolerate.

The Master lays his cutlery down on his plate carefully, eyes fixed on America. I have to do something, quickly.

'Oh, acting all big and strong now, are you?' I say to America.

He frowns back at me. 'What are you talking about?'

'Don't act like you can fight if you have nothing to back you up,' I continue. 'You've had months of hiding away and doing nothing to prove that you're all talk.'

The initial shock is wearing off from him now. Instead of sadness, he's getting angry. This is good. There will be less of a chance of him breaking, and it will work with my plan. 'That's not what… I wasn't… What the hell do you know?'

'I know that you failed,' I say icily. 'That you just ran away.'

'I was helping people,' he growls. 'I was saving-'

'You didn't save anyone!' I yell. 'They're all dead! You just ditched anyone you came across and continued running. Well, look how that worked out.'

'I was trying to do some good,' he retorts.

'Forgive me if I don't see the world getting any brighter because of your actions,' I snarl. 'You just ran as fast as you could, and you left everyone behind.'

He's shaking with anger. 'I was gonna come back for you. I was gonna find a way to save you.'

'No. You just left me behind and ran for your freedom. Oh, that sounds familiar.'

He freezes, eyes wide in shock. His mouth is open but no words come out.

'Well, you know what?' I finish. 'Go to hell.'

There's silence after that. America says nothing else. He just slumps a little in his chair, staring away into space. I don't turn to see how the Doctor's taking this. I don't think I could bare it. He was the only thing left in this world who seemed determined to prove that I hadn't disappointed him, and I know that this will no longer be the case. He'll be disgusted with me for what I've said this evening.

And yet, under the table where my hand is resting on my lap, I feel withered fingers gently wrap themselves around my own. I turn ever so slightly in confusion. Has he forgiven me? Of course. The Doctor always tries to find forgiveness in himself. Always. He doesn't look angry. He looks… sympathetic. And so kind. And I realise that he knows what this is. He knows what I'm trying to do.

The Master chuckles. 'Well, this certainly has been an interesting evening. We should do it again some time.'

* * *

I'm sharing my cell tonight with America.

A part of me is relieved, because he will be within my sight, in my company, and I'll know he's safe for now. Another part is terrified, because of all the terrible things I said to him, and because I'm not sure how much longer I can keep up this façade before I give in to what I want desperately to do, which is to go to him, to hug him back, to hold him because he's the only other nation left and because he's _America-_

No. I can't do this. I must be strong. Knowing the Master, he'll be watching the cell or something. He'll want to listen in to America and I. He'll want to catch me out. He wants to watch me slip.

I'll have to wear the mask for the whole night.

The guards chain us to opposite ends of the cell. I'm on the left, America's on the right. The chains are long enough for both of us to reach the middle of the cell. They're long enough for us to physically interact with each other. We could actually meet in the centre. The chains aren't, however, long enough to reach the other end of the cell. So if I stay here on my side, he won't be able to reach me, no matter how far he gets away from his side.

The door closes and the guards leave. It's just America and I now.

Just as I suspected, he leaves his side and ventures to the centre of the cell immediately, as far as his chain will let him. I don't go to meet him. I stay on my side and face my wall, my back to him, knees pressed to my chest and my arms wrapped around my legs.

'England,' he calls out.

I don't answer.

'What you said before. That wasn't fair. None of it was fair.'

_I know. And I'm sorry._

'I did everything I could down there. You don't- you have _no idea_ what I've had to do.'

_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._

'I… _I tried.'_

_I know._

'Will you just look at me?!'

_I can't. I want to. I'm sorry._

'Just say something!'

_No. I'm sorry. No._

I close my eyes and press my face into my knees, forcing away the tears like I always have to do. I know I won't sleep. I know it will be a long night.

* * *

The next day, America is escorted out for the 'grand tour' as the Master put it. I say nothing as the guards collect America from the cell, even though every part of me is screaming at them for them to leave him alone and to not take him away. How am I to know that he will be okay if I'm not with him, if I am just to stay locked up in here?

But I remain calm when he is taken away. I say nothing and I do nothing. They can't know that I'm fazed.

But as America and the guards disappear from sight, the Master is left here. Shouldn't he be going with them? Or is he going to will be spending a session with me? The dull throbs of the cuts on my body tingle uncomfortably at the thought.

The Master smiles and walks over to me. I want to back away but I stand my ground. He leans in close.

'Nice try,' he whispers, and my blood runs cold.

As he pulls away and I see his face, I know it's true. He's figured me out. He's called my bluff. He knows I've been faking all of this. I didn't fool him.

America is no failure. _I_ am the failure.

* * *

I am left in the cell for the whole day. America doesn't come back and no one comes for me. I want to scream. There's no point pretending now, is there? The Master knows I was lying. At least I won't have to be cruel to America anymore. At least he'll know I don't hate him.

If he even comes back. The Master knows for sure that he can use America against me, and that's what he'll plan on doing. I am reassured by one thing alone: the probability is, nothing drastic has happened yet. If the Master is going to hurt America then he'll want me to watch.

Or maybe he wants me to feel the pain of not knowing what's going on.

'Arthur? Can you hear me?'

My head rises up slowly, frowning. That's Tish's voice. But it can't be time for her to bring me my supper- I only had lunch about three hours ago.

I can hear the sound of the door unlocking. This can't be happening. 'Tish, no-'

'I'm sick of being scared the whole time,' Tish says. 'I- I just want to do something. Something right. I want to help. That other nation, the one they brought in- your friend, America- he was with Martha the whole time down there. He'll- he'll be able to tell me what happened. I want to know what happened to my sister. I want to know if she's okay.'

The door swings open and Tish stands there.

'Dad swiped the keys from one of the guards,' she says. 'They're always the ones who unlock your door, never me. But I can get you out. We have to go find America, before…'

_Before the Master gets rid of him,_ I know she wants to say, but she also doesn't want to upset me.

'Tish, we can't talk to America without the Master being there,' I say, 'which means that pretty soon he's going to find out that you let me out of the cell. He'll punish you.'

'Isn't there something we can do?' she asks as she bends down to unlock my chains. 'Some way we can… do something?'

'Do what? Apprehend the Master? Take control of the _Valiant?_ Tish, you know none of it will ever work.'

'Please. There's got to be something…' She looks at me, eyes full of desperate hope. She really does believe that there's something _I_ can do. With a start, I realise that this is probably the same look I give the Doctor when I expect him to save the day. Does he feel as hopeless as I do when people wait for him to turn all the bad things around? Does he doubt he can do anything to help in the darkest of times?

'I wish I could…' I say. She covers her mouth with her hand and closes her eyes, allowing a tear to trickle down her cheek.

'Look, either way… thank you. For letting me out. I have to find America.'

She nods. 'I've got to finish up in the kitchens with Mum. Please- please ask America about Martha.'

'I will.'

* * *

There's been an upgrade to the observation deck, something I never saw last night during dinner because it was so dark. As I creep into the room now, I can see it; a section of the wall at the end has been reconstructed and there is now a large black door. What alarms me is that it can't possibly lead to anywhere- the other side of the door is open sky. To step out would be to fall thousands of feet to your death. Why would the Master want that built? An execution opportunity? He has other means of having people killed. Or does he like the idea of someone plummeting towards an inevitable demise? Probably, knowing him.

America and the Master are standing in the centre, talking. Rather, the Master is doing the talking, whilst America just stands there. The sunset is streaming through the windows. There are no guards in the vicinity but America knows not to try anything because of the two Toclafane that hover above the Master, weapons out and ready.

'… searching for a weapon. I already know about this. There's no point lying. Martha Jones is looking for something to kill me. What is it?'

'No idea,' America says coolly.

The Master sighs. 'Don't play games with me. There's no point anymore, don't you _see?'_ The last word is snapped out. He really is beginning to lose his temper.

America's face is serious. He doesn't flinch.

'Where is Martha Jones?'

'No idea. Have you tried looking on the moon?' And these words distantly ring with that playful element he always had. Even after everything, America is still himself, deep down.

'You are of no use to me, you know that? I'll find her either way, no matter how long it takes.' The Master is silent for a minute, as if considering his options. 'You know, I brought you down. There's no more resistance. That pathetic little rebellion, that Earth Revolution as you lot all dubbed it- it's been _crushed._ You and England are the only nations left!'

And then America _smiles._ 'Damn right we're still here.'

The Master smacks him in the face and America goes stumbling back. I throw myself down the steps, not caring that I'll finally be spotted and my façade will fall for all to see.

'Kill him,' the Master instructs the Toclafane. They turn their weapons towards America in an instant.

'No!' I scream, throwing myself between the Toclafane and America.

The Master raises his hand in an instant. 'Hold your fire.'

Behind me, I can feel America's eyes burning into the back of my head. He must be so shocked because I'm here, and because I'm protecting him, even after implying that I hated him.

'Well, well, England. You did get out,' the Master says approvingly.

'What?'

'Honestly, I must admit I kind of set it up a bit. Put rubbish guards on duty. Practically gift-wrapped those keys for Clive Jones to take and give to sweet Tish. I wanted to put you to the test. And here you are. Like the knight in shining armour. Come to save your precious America.'

Of course. He probably wasn't even going to kill America. He only commanded the death sentence once I threw myself into the room. He was waiting for me. He wanted to watch me smash my own mask, wanted to see me panic.

From where I'm standing now, I can see the Doctor in his tent. He smiles sadly at me. I want to cry. Of course, I don't.

The Master laughs. 'Well, I suppose the cat's out of the bag now, huh, England?' He takes a step closer. 'You know, don't you? You know what I can do. You know I can finally-'

'Shut up,' I spit.

He's right in front of me now. 'It terrifies you, doesn't it? 'Cause maybe, just maybe, I know how to do it. What I've been trying to do from the very start.'

_No, no, no, no, no… Stay calm, don't let him see you panic more than you've already done._

_But I'm so_ scared…

He lifts up his hand, ready to grab my shirt, but suddenly I'm being pulled back and someone is throwing their arm in front of me.

'Back off,' America says.

The Master grins. 'Oh, are _you_ the hero now? You'd like that, wouldn't you? But now the roles are reversed. I honestly can't work out which one of you is the knight and which one is the damsel. I suppose, seeing how England was the one locked away in a tower- or rather, a hovercraft-'

'Master, stop this,' the Doctor calls out in his tired, heavy voice.

'Just having a bit of fun. Can you blame me, Doctor? I've broken and thrown away most of my toys. These two are the only ones left worth playing with.' He folds his arms. 'But I suppose you're right. Maybe this is enough for now. After all, tomorrow's a big day. Guards!'

'Tomorrow?' I echo, frowning. 'What's happening tomorrow?'

The Master just smirks as the guards walk in. 'Take them both back to their cell.'

'What happens tomorrow?' I demand. 'Tell me!'

'I'll see you both in the morning,' he replies. 'Have a good night.'

The guards are already pulling me away but I need answers. I remember a time a few months ago, on the day the Master was elected Prime Minister, I heard him saying something similar to Lucy. He promised her, 'Tomorrow morning. That's when it all ends.' And the very next day, he ended the world.

It's as if he hears my thoughts. As America gets dragged away back to the cell, the Master stops my guards from following quickly. 'It's not the world I'm ending this time, England,' he says in a voice so quiet that I'm certain I'm the only person who can hear him. 'Already done that. It's _your_ world I'm ending.'

'What do you mean?' I gasp, struggling to try and push the guards off me.

He puts his hand on my shoulder and begins drumming the four beat pattern with his fingers. 'Tomorrow,' he says, 'you're going to break.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> England was only trying to keep America safe, the only way he could think to do so- by pretending to hate him. The Master destroys things England cares about. I hope that makes sense. As I've already written out most of the next chapter, I can promise that America and England will resolve this.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! As I now of course know there will be one more chapter than originally planned, I anticipate 3, possibly 4 more chapters before this story is done. I actually wrote the final chapter out months ago so I at least know exactly how it will conclude. I will be writing more Whotalia too as part of the same universe, plus Chameleon Circuit (which I should probably update XD). Right now I'm mainly focusing on The Year That Never Was and Ash Song, one of my other Hetalia stories.
> 
> Leave a review on your way out, and see you soon!


	10. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been very excited to write this chapter for well over a year now. This is a key pivotal point in the story. And it wasn't some random idea I had halfway through or anything. It was always going to play out this way, right from the very beginning.
> 
> Warnings: ... Well, actually, just expect the usual, plus worse. I don't want to spoil it.
> 
> Allons-y!

It's quiet now.

I can still see the sun setting through the barred window. It's beautiful. I wasn't sure anything could still be beautiful. Then I saw him again, saw those eyes of his. Still full of willpower. He won't break. I can't let them break him.

Those blue eyes are staring at me right now. I want to look back at them but I'm too bloody scared to do anything. The Master's words terrify me. I don't know what to do.

'England?'

It's just us, alone in the cell. We're not required until tomorrow. He's leaning against the wall on his side of the cell, I'm leaning against mine. And I have nothing left to hide.

'Are you just gonna ignore me again?'

'… No,' I say finally.

He doesn't say anything at first. I think he's surprised that I am acknowledging him now. 'Why didn't he kill me?' he asks finally.

'He wasn't going to,' I reply. 'It was a ruse. He wanted to get to me.'

'Get to you how?'

'He was trying to break my act. And… he… succeeded.'

'What act?'

'The 'I hate you and want you dead' act. Perhaps I should have used those exact words. Though they wouldn't have sounded very convincing. I don't think I could have managed it. He wouldn't have bought it either way. Worked on you, though, didn't it?' I look up at him.

He's frowning at me. 'Those things you said to me…'

I force myself to keep looking at him. 'He kills them. He kills everyone. But he likes to play with some of them first. He likes to break people. He wants to break me. He's been trying since the beginning. He knows how to do it, too. He hasn't succeeded yet, but he's almost there. He'll hurt and kill anyone to do it. The people around me. The people that help me. The people I care about. Anyone who matters to me.'

'So…'

'So I thought, if he believed you didn't matter to me, he wouldn't hurt you,' I admit. 'It's less likely for him to hurt someone I dislike because he thinks it won't have the desired effect on me. He'll do anything to try and break me. I didn't want him using you to do it. I'm… I'm sorry.'

America is still frowning, but I can see something else on his face now. His eyes are betraying him. They look relieved. I've made him happy. I feel better for it myself.

'You didn't mean any of it, then?' he says hopefully. 'The things you said to me?'

There's a lump in my throat. _Don't you dare,_ I scold myself. I still won't let myself cry. 'No, of course not, fool,' I say, managing a small smile. 'Well, except one thing.'

His face falls. 'What?'

I try to keep my voice steady. 'Why the hell did you have to get captured? You were supposed to stay safe down there.'

He glares at me. 'Safe? How the hell was I supposed to be safe back on the ground? You have no idea what it's like down there.'

I scowl back. 'Yeah, I do, actually. I escaped here back in August and went down to the ground and saw for myself. But you weren't locked up down there, you were free.'

'I was always having to run and hide!' he says angrily, pushing himself away from the wall and striding over to the centre, as far as the chain will allow him to go. 'I was being hunted the whole damn time! And seeing as you're back up here, you obviously got caught.'

'But not before I found others,' I say in a controlled voice. 'A refugee camp in London. The Master had everyone slaughtered for harboring me. I had to run, too. I found other nations, France and the others, and they helped me. The Master found me and brought me back. And he had those nations killed too. I told you, the Master kills anyone who helps me.'

'Then you do know,' America says in a pained murmur. 'There were loads of them, so many other countries, and I couldn't… I couldn't do anything…' And once again I feel terrible because I remember all those horrible things I had to yell at him, about how he couldn't save anyone.

'The Master has this sick sense of irony too,' he continues. 'Did you know he burned the Vatican to the ground on Christmas day? He targeted Japan's own Nuclear reactors to blow up the country. He knocked down the Statue of Liberty on my birthday.'

I run my hands through my hair, biting my lip. 'Yeah, sorry about that. It was my fault.'

He stares at me. 'What?'

He's already angry enough already, and now he's about to find out that I'm the reason his beloved statue collapsed. 'The Master did it because of an action I took. He was punishing you to punish me.'

America's voice is very quiet. 'What did you do?'

I look down at the ground, closing my eyes. 'I, um… I lit some fireworks.'

There's silence for a few seconds as I wallow in my self-hatred and remorse, then I hear the last thing I ever would have expected.

Laughter.

America is _laughing._

'Seriously?' His voice is still quiet but it doesn't sound angry anymore. It sounds like how it used to sound. How it should be.

'Y-yes.'

America sinks to his knees, grinning widely. 'You lit fireworks on my birthday?' he chuckles.

'America… you loved that statue. You shouldn't find this funny; I'm the reason it was knocked down and- _why are you still laughing?!'_

His smile is the most refreshing and captivating thing I've seen in such a long time. 'You- you celebrated my birthday. My independence day!' he gasps between bouts of laughter.

I can feel my own lips twitching into a smile now. 'Yes, and?'

'Tell you what, Iggy: I prefer your sense of irony to the Master's, any day,' he giggles. And just like that, I'm laughing too. I can't help it. I also can't help leaving my spot and moving over towards America. I'm not going to push him away this time. Like I said, I have nothing left to hide. Nothing to lie about.

I accept the hug with open arms. Literally. For the first time in months, I don't flinch at the touch of someone else like I do whenever the Master comes near me. I let America wrap his arms around me and I relax as I rest my head against his chest. He places his head against my shoulder and I keep my hands pressed against his back, clutching onto the fabric of his bomber jacket.

We stay like this for a while, and we're both still laughing. For me, it's out of relief. Because America's here, and I know that's bad because he was meant to be free on the ground, but he's _here._ He's here, with me. Alive. Safe. _America._

We talk for a while. Mostly about what happened to him on Earth. We don't talk about the details of the mission he and Martha were on because I'm still slightly paranoid about the Master possibly listening in on us. So we talk about how America survived, and who he lost. He actually managed to get to Japan on time. He apparently tried to convince the Asian nation to run, but Japan refused and insisted on staying with his people. America and Martha were the last two to make it out of the country alive before it caught flames.

He wasn't there in time for Canada. This was back in the beginning. He found France and the others, just like they told me when I was with them. He learnt that Canada was already lost. There was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could do for so many others as well. He tried, but they all died in the end. And he and Martha had to keep moving.

At some point, I start doing the talking. I tell him about being on the phone to Japan, about finding out about all the dead nations, about China and Russia breaking, about escaping to Earth to find it in ruins. I talk about the refugee camp and I tell him about my Queen dying and the massacre that followed soon after. I talk about France and the others in Paris, and how the Master found me and forced me to come back, and then went ahead and disposed of all the nations that helped me.

America spots the scars on my arms and asks me if the Master is responsible. I don't have to answer.

Apparently Martha told him the truth about me. It's beautifully refreshing for someone to know about all the things I've had to keep secret- the Doctor, the TARDIS, Gallifrey and the Time War, all the invasions and battles that I've always had to lie about. America believes it all. Of course he does. He's been given no choice but to accept this kind of knowledge since the Master ended the world.

The night has long since fallen and we are pressed up against the wall with the window, the wall between the two we're chained too, opposite the door. We're still pressed up against each other, not letting go. Tonight is ours. One night of peace. I don't want to have to think about tomorrow and about what the Master said to me. Tonight, it's just America and I. Only now do I fully, truly comprehend just how much I've missed him. We're the last nations on Earth now. All we have is each other.

'Don't you dare die on me, America,' I whisper.

* * *

The Master comes in the morning, like he promised.

I wasn't supposed to fall asleep last night, but both America and I evidently did. We're still leaning on each other when I am jolted awake by the door swinging open and the Master's snide voice.

'Aww, how sweet. Nice night? Come along now.'

Now is the time to let myself be afraid. Because it's finally here. The next day. The day the Master thinks I'm going to break. But I won't. No matter what happens, I won't break.

America and I are led to the observation deck once more. This time, the new black door is open and I can hear the sound of the wind howling past and the dull rumble of the engines in the distance. How high up are we? How far would it be to fall? Sometimes the Master moves the _Valiant_ around like when he flew it over Japan when the country was on fire. Most of the time he leaves it situated over an ocean, generally the Atlantic. Perhaps the _Valiant_ is lying low today. How low down would it have to be for a nation to survive the fall? Is there any way America and I could…?

I shake my head. It would be impossible. Besides, I left the Doctor and the Jones' behind once before and I'm not doing it again.

Like yesterday, there are no guards in here, just myself, America, the Master, the Doctor and a couple of Toclafane. The Master looks excited, which is definitely bad. He makes himself comfortable in a chair by the table and leans back, smiling.

'So, America,' he says. 'Has England told you all about his little trip to Earth?'

'Yeah,' America replies. He and I stand exactly where we are, refusing to sit down.

'And did he tell you about the refugee camp? About how he got everyone there killed?'

'You killed them-' America begins hotly.

'And how he got Spain killed too? Which started a chain, really. 'Cause Romano gave in after that, then Italy after him, then Germany and France. All from one little trigger that England began. Pretty incredible, really.'

'That's all on you,' I spit. Because even though I _do_ know to blame myself, I don't want the Master knowing that. I won't give him the satisfaction.

'It wouldn't have happened at all if you'd just stayed up here,' the Master says indifferently. 'What did you even achieve, anyway?'

_Nothing. Absolutely nothing._

The Master rises from his chair. 'So, I'm going to tell you both a little story. It's about a little country over a thousand years ago, wishing for a madman in a magic box to save him because the monsters were coming. It's about a liar, tricking the world into thinking he's just like the other nations. It's about the one responsible for the deaths of so many others because he's too selfish to do what's right.'

He steps forwards and looks me in the eyes. 'You could prevented a lot of suffering if you had just broken in the first place. Everyone breaks in the end. Even you. But I still haven't managed to make you give in.'

That's what so much of it has been about, hasn't it? The only way he can truly achieve global domination is if he makes everyone submit. Simply won't killing people won't work for him. He wants to force people down, to break their will. And all along, I've been refusing to do so. He's like a stubborn child who _always_ gets what he wants.

He pulls out his laser screwdriver and in a blast of red energy I feel my chest explode in pain and I'm promptly knocked off my feet, followed by my back slamming into the ground. I can hear America calling my name but I can't reply. My breaths are choked; I'm winded.

Someone's pulling me up, gently but with a firm grip. I've lost all strength in my arms and legs. The laser screwdriver must be on a high setting- not enough to kill me, but enough to seriously incapacitate me. I've got America's support but I still try to stand on my own nonetheless.

'See, I hurt him physically and it changes nothing. He always manages to stand on his own two feet once more,' the Master says, and I can hear the irritation, clear as day in his voice. I force myself to look up at him, trying not to wince in pain.

_Damn right it changes nothing. Damn right._

'And you know what? Reminding him of the part he played in all of this gets to him. I know it does.' The Master smiles cruelly. 'I can see it on his face, all the time. But he still won't submit. He still won't give in.'

I try and block out his words, focusing on standing my ground. America is right there beside me, his hand still clutching onto my arm in case I need help. I ignore the hot, wet feeling on my chest which I know is blood. I have to be strong.

'You know what could work, though?' the Master says quietly, taking a step towards me. 'You know what really might just break him in the end? I've been working on this one since the beginning, and every single time I take it into action I see his resolve weaken just a little bit more.'

He's right in front of me, reaching out with his hand to lift up my chin so I'm looking at him right in the eyes. 'How does the saying go?'

America is shaking beside me, but not out of fear. Out of fury. He can't do anything though, lest the Toclafane attack him.

'Ah yes, that's right,' the Master whispers. 'How terrible it is, to love something that death can touch.'

He means them all. My family. My friends. My fellow nations. Everyone I care about. Every single one he has killed to try and bring me apart. Everyone he has murdered in his quest to break me.

With a cry of anger, I shove him away as hard as I can without thinking. In a moment of panic, I forget what consequences this action might result in. All that matters right now is getting him away from me-

He comes back immediately with a smack to my face. My head twists around and I stumble backwards, my ears ringing in pain.

America throws a punch at the Master but one of the Toclafane crashes into his back, flinging him forwards. I'm horrified to see a slit across his bomber jacket which is quickly darkening with blood because of one of the little blades poking out of the spherical being. America groans on the floor for a second before pushing himself to his knees and turning around, only to be slammed in the chest by another Toclafane.

'No- no, stop!' I yell, intent on reaching America, but the Master grabs my arm and swings me around, grabbing me by the throat.

'I told you,' he says gleefully. 'I said today will be the day you break.'

I struggle desperately but his vice-like grip holds me in place and his laser screwdriver is being pressed against my chest, right over my heart. All he has to do is press one little button and it will all be over. Except he won't do that, not until he's broken me first.

And I know how. I've known ever since the other nation was brought in. I've been forcing it towards the back of my mind because the truth of it is so terrifying, so unimaginable…

He's not going to break me by physically hurting me. He's not going to break me by verbally hurting me either.

_America._

'Get off him,' America snarls, slamming into the Master. The other nations is covered in splatters of blood from the Toclafanes' blades but he's pushed past them anyway, still focused on his fight with the Master.

'No,' I gasp. 'No, America, you mustn't- America, it's you! He's going to-'

Someone's fist slams into my jawline. The Master and America are in such a flurry of punches that I don't even have time to register whose stray attack caught me before one of the Toclafane swoops in between myself and the other two and a blade embeds its way into my skin, just under my ribcage. The blade is so thin that at first I don't actually feel any pain. As it comes out and I see my blood cascading down my shirt and onto the floor, I realise that the wound is quite deep.

But it doesn't matter.

'England!' comes a withered old voice from the corner and I turn to see the Doctor hobbling over. But he'll only want to tend to my wound and pull me out of the fight and keep me safe because he doesn't realise how unimportant all of that is.

Only one thing matters.

I dodge an attempted second attack from the Toclafane and reach America and the Master. My stomach is stinging and throbbing and I stumble a little but I manage to get a hold of America's jacket and pull him back.

'Please… listen…' I rasp. But he's not listening because now all he seems to be focused on is my wound and can't he see it doesn't matter? 'America…' He's lifting my arm around his neck. Why's he doing this? Why won't he just listen? There's something very important he has to know.

_How terrible it is, to love something that death can touch._

Does he not realise what this means? Does he not know what's going to happen if I can't stop it? He's taking me over to the corner, over to the Doctor. No. No, I have to face the Master. I have to convince him not to do it.

The Doctor's reaching out for me. America rests me against the wall and the Doctor is pressing his hands against the wound.

'America… please…' I whisper but he's already let go of me. He's walking back to the Master. I can't up. I can't make my body move. The Doctor won't let me, anyway. I look up at him, and he just looks back at me with those sad eyes, a million apologies flashing through them in an instant.

The Toclafane descend on America. They slice and cut and hurt and by the end he is gasping on the floor, barely able to move. That's when the Master does it. He clicks his fingers and the large black doors swing open up to the open sky, pale and vast and so loud. He laughs and reaches down to grasp the collar of America's jacket, dragging him to his unsteady feet.

There's a scream at the bottom of my throat, working its way up. My mind and body feel like they're splitting in two. There's blood falling all around me but I still manage to make myself move. I have to get to America.

'England,' the Doctor says, and his voice breaks a little. 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'

_America._

He's all that matters. In this never ending moment, he's all that will ever matter.

_America._

The Master is pulling America away from me, closer and closer to the open doors. The wind is howling even louder than my mind. I stumble forwards, my hands outstretched. If I can just reach him, if I can just pull him back…

Pressed up against the edge, America turns his head to look back at me. His face is contorted in pain and weariness and I know in this moment that he can't fight against the Master's grip anymore.

And then something in his expression softens as he meets my gaze. His bright blue eyes seem to shine and I can see it now, as if they're mirrors. His eyes are reflecting my own resolve. All I want is it protect him, and in this moment I can see why he did it, why he kept me away from the Master and shielded me from the Toclafane and carried me to safety. Because it's the same for him as well.

All he wants is to protect me.

_AMERICA._

Are those tears on his face? Why is he crying? He looks so… sorry. As if he knows what's going to happen, as if he knows he's going to be leaving me behind.

_NO._

All these suppressed thoughts, the revelations I never even wanted to consider are flooding my mind and there's nothing I can do to stop any of this. America isn't struggling anymore. He's still looking straight at me and I know what's going to happen. I knew the minute I first saw America again, here on the Valiant once more. I knew what the Master was going to inevitably do. I just couldn't bear to think it. The pain and the fear was too much.

_He'll do anything to break me._

America's eyes are shining just as brightly as the day I first met him.

_Don't you are die on me, America._ My own words are simply an echo. A mere dream.

But he's still with me.

And then he's gone.

There's no sound. I hear no noise as the Master pushes America through the door. There's no cry from the other nation. He doesn't scream, and if he does, I don't hear him. One minute he's here, and the next he's not.

_Gone._

I'm at the door now, looking down into open sky. America's body has already fallen through the clouds and out of sight.

_Lost._

I can't see him. Why can't I see him? Why isn't he here? Why has he gone? He's not here, with me.

_He'll never be here again_.

_Never, ever, ever._

I fall to my knees. The world is still quiet. Of course it is- it's ended, after all.

_He's never coming back._

His body will be on the ground now, tangled and broken. Lifeless. Empty. Over.

That's what everything is now. _Lifeless. Empty. Over._

That's what I am. _Lifeless. Empty. Over._

The ice has cracked and fallen to pieces. The waves are crashing through my head, burying what's left of me in the darkness of my mind. There are tears, but I can't feel them. I've lost, but I don't care. There's nothing left.

_Thud thud thud thud._ One sound has returned. The drums. Or my heartbeat. Either way, it doesn't matter. It shouldn't exist.

Everything has ended. I am broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any emotional distress caused. Especially if there are tears involved. I would say a part of me broke writing it, but if I'm perfectly honest, a) as the author, I know how this will end and b) like I said earlier on, I've been planning and thinking through America's death and England breaking for a long time, so I was fully prepared for this. I still feel bad though. I really should xD
> 
> It's not only the fact that's it's America that died (that's terrible enough on its own anyway). It's also the fact that England has been taking hits throughout the whole story. Each one has chipped away at his mental barrier, weakening it more and more progressively. Each heartbreak has been building up for him inevitably breaking. And losing the very last one of his kind other than himself, not to mention the fact that it's America, is the tipping point. It is of course, eerily reflecting what is going to happen to the Doctor soon enough in the story, as I'm sure we all know what happened in the Doctor Who series 3 finale, and why it was called Last of the Time Lords.
> 
> I hope you guys can still endure this story, heartbreak and all. I'm absolutely loving to write it, and I can promise it will be over soon. Roughly two or three chapters to go, probably two. The last one is already written out, with a bittersweet ending.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the follows, favourites and reviews. Remember to drop a comment after reading if you can, and I'll see you all next time!


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